Seven Years Later
by greencyanide
Summary: The Beginning after the End. Seven years after GWTW ends, Wade, now a young man, is searching for Scarlett. Will he find her? What happens to Rhett and Scarlett? Reviews are welcome.
1. Chapter 1

**INTRODUCTION**: **After **_**Gone With The Wind **_**ends, Scarlett went off to Ireland, but never notified anyone in Atlanta or Savannah or Tara, so she is missing to everyone. This story starts off seven years after **_**GWTW**_** ends. Wade, now 23,in the meanwhile has grown up to take over his father's family fortune and runs successful business. Ella, almost 17,attends a good school, and is looked after by Wade. Wade is in search of Scarlett.**

**The theme is somewhat in par with **_**Scarlett**_**, but of course the ages and roles of Wade and Ella have been changed quite a bit.**

**I have a rough frame in mind. Though story follows Wade's perspective, I will substantially add Rhett and Scarlett's stories parallely. So, evidently there'll be quite a few/lot of chapters. Please be patient.**

**Reviews are appreciated.**

* * *

Wade looked across the hall, fiddling with the ring on his finger, bearing the Hamilton family crest. An unreasoned smile came on his eyes, but before it could reach across his face, someone called, "Mr. Hamilton. Miss Ellen is waiting in the annex. Please follow me."

Wade looked up at the stout and diplomatic face of Mrs. Avery. He stood up and followed the elderly woman.

After ushering him into the rather velvety annex Mrs. Avery departed, leaving Wade and his dear sister Ella to themselves.

Ella looked confused. "Wade, you already have wished me luck for the play, remember? You didn't have to come right before the musical began!"

Wade looked at her for a long moment and Ella knew that was not the case. "What is it, brother ?", she said tentatively.

"I'm sorry, dear sister, but I won't be able to stay through the play. I have to go to Jonesboro. The cotton plantation taxes have been apparently hoarded by our plantation overseer."

"Oh. I understand."

"Don't look so crestfallen, dear. I promise I'll bring the beautiful bustle gown you were goggling that other day."

Ella threw back her head, insulted. "I wasn't goggling!" Then giggled and said, "You better keep your promise or I'll go tearing down your honorable reputation in Atlanta!"

Wade laughed, and hastily kissed Ella goodbye, before Mrs. Avery escorted Ella to stage.

*****

Once outside,the slight chill of the October wind tingled Wade's cheek as he walked past the huge statue of Minerva of the front lawn of Cartersville School for Women. He didn't know why,but he was being transported back to old times today at some unrelated sights. A little boy was crying out on top of his voice,but his mother seemed lost in conversation with her friend in the park. Wade smiled when he remembered his mother,Scarlett O' Hara Hamilton,the envy of every woman of Atlanta, the dream of every man around. Scarlett - who had become a mother,when she was a child herself, innocently lost to life's complexities. He had been an unnecessary responsibility, so had been Ella from six years later. Wade remembered Aunt Melly, the ever-smiling and patient woman,who had been his shield from mother, when she got into one of her raging fits. Melanie Hamilton. Alas, she too was not around any more. Wade sometimes wished he had known his father, or even seen him once in his life,but his mother's fury and frustration put doubts in his mind, even as a child, as to what Charles Hamilton would be like. He remembered how happy he was, when Aunt Melly had brought little Ella to him, when she was born. It had to be the most beautiful child. His thoughts were tumbling now - the terrifying War - Rhett Butler's visits to Great Aunt Pitty's home - his playing with little Wade and Ella - Mother's marriage to Uncle Rhett - little Bonnie - her death - Uncle Rhett leaving - Tara...... he couldn't keep thinking. He would not think about it now. Wade had never complained in life, he accepted anything and everything that came his way. He didn't refute the unpleasantries thrown his way, he just worked his way through it. He had never complained when Scarlett left Wade and Ella at Tara with Will and Aunt Suellen,to go to Charleston. He never complained when Scarlett went to Savannah and never came back. He never complained when he was sent away to the most elite school of Georgia by his mother,though she never came to see him. He never complained,when one day silently all the money of Charles Hamilton was transferred to his account. He never complained when he realised his mother had severed all ties with him,Ella and every other person she knew in Georgia and disappeared. He never complained when she din not give him any proof of being alive over the past seven years. He never complained when his search for mother failed miserably over the past years.....

Once,long time ago,someone had told him, "Don't complain like a baby, Wade. Be a man,and do your mother proud."


	2. Chapter 2

The sky was a brilliant shade of cornflower blue. Such a lovely day to sour over unpaid taxes and settling bills, Wade thought ruefully as he hopped off the train at the Jonesboro railway station. Chief Rowell walked towards him in his lethargic gait and gave him a curt nod, when a mousy man beside him offered his hand.

"Good morning Mr. Hamilton, I am Jamie Bryant, Mr. Randall's lawyer. I'd like to negotiate on Mr. Randall's behalf - "

Before he could finish, Chief Rowell cut in. "Randall wanted to pay the taxes in six installments if you dropped charges. But I refused, so he sent Bryant to sweet-talk you into it."

Wade looked at the two men standing in front of him, assessing the new development. "So, to sum it up, I will pay the taxes and revoke Mr. Randall from his position, and he would pay me back the amount in six months. That seems reasonable enough."

Jamie Bryant smiled, seemingly encouraged but the chief looked like he had been slapped on the face.

"Mr. Hamilton, are you considering this blasted proposition?"

"Why not, Chief? I get my taxes paid and Mr. Randall doesn't rot in jail."

"But I will not have a man, who had committed such felony, escape unpunished."

"Now lets be fair, Chief. How does losing one's job and having to pay the astronomical taxes, when one has a family to look after and a daughter to marry off, look any less a punishment than twenty years of jail?"

"With all due respect Sir, I don't care a hang how many mouths Randall has to feed, I will have no such pardons. I have set the date of hearing at the court for today, and so will it be. I hope you will make yourself available this afternoon. Judge Barrett expects both the parties in the courtroom at two. Goodday, gentlemen."

With that he strode off to the stable and within moments he was a tiny speck of black in the red horizon, riding off to the courthouse.

*********

Wade walked out of the humid courtroom, wiping sweat off his brow. It was turning out to be a very warm day for October. On the other end of the road, the police horses were nibbling idly at the parched grass. Overseer Randall was cuffed to a post nearby waiting to be taken away by the police, his wife and daughters crying ceremoniously beside him. His son, a little boy of five, unaware of the doom was chasing off a cat around the fence. Randall caught his eye, and for a moment, a painstakingly long, cold moment, Wade's eyes were burning under his stony gaze. Wade tore his eyes off and walked across towards Andrew Mason, the prosecution counsel and an old friend. He was talking animatedly to Chief Rowell and another rather stiff, elderly man.

"Ah, hello Wade. Care to join us for a drink at Mill's Pub?" bellowed Andrew.

"Eh - yes, I think I would." mumbled Wade and made his way towards the horses.

Once they dismounted their horses in front of Mill's Pub, Andrew pulled him to his side and conspiratorially said, pointing to the elderly man, "See that old man? That's Lennox Calder, he has a big shot law firm in Columbia. Yes, sir, one of the first to open in the Confederate States! He came here to meet Judge Barett and he offered me a position in his firm. Just think, Wade, I'll be a solicitor, earn from my own cases, _and_ get a share of the profits of the firm!"

Wade smiled, his friends' enthusiasm and happiness rubbed off on him and he heartily congratulated Andrew, who seemed to float into the pub.

After ordering their drinks, they engaged in a comfortable conversation about politics, South Carolina's Governor Joseph Brigand's scandalous pact with the Yankees. Wade joined in once in a while, sharing news he had come across on his travels for business. Lennox Calder curiously asked what business he had in South Carolina.

"I had to go to Summerville to buy off a cotton plantation from the owner who had worked like a field hand himself to run the fields. But these years the produce hardly covered the costs of raw materials and the few laborers he could manage to employ. So he sold it off to me for, what I consider a lump some amount."

"Ah, now could it be Jeremiah Sandler you are talking about?", Calder asked, smiling.

"Why yes, so it is. Do you happen to be an acquaintance of Mr. Sandler?"

Calder chuckled, "No, but he did borrow some money from me. A couple of weeks earlier, he came bobbing to my office with the money. He said some bloke from Atlanta has bought off his bone-dry cotton plantation at an ungodly price."

Wade indulged in a knowledgeable smile. "Thankfully for me, he didn't know any better. The soil of his fields is heavy clay loam of best quality. He misused it with too much water, treated it like black soil. The waterlogged subsoil spoiled the cotton, and he added disproportionate amount fertilizers to resolve it. Some good pigeon pea intercrop ought to set this kind of land good for years."

"Well, you seem to know a lot about your cotton, Mr. Hamilton. You surely have a plantation of your own?"

"Yes,Greenwoods, it's actually my father's. But I'm afraid it had been the most ill-run plantation I have ever seen."

"So, how many plantations are you conducting your business at? It's all cotton I suppose."

Normally Wade would get a little uncomfortable about this apparent stranger's questions, but his drink had loosened him up.

"Well, currently I have seven plantations, including Greenwood. And no, it's not only cotton. The plantations at Seventy Acres and Walnut Grove mainly produce rice. Some also produce good medicinal herbs, ornamental plants and flowers. My Copper Crust in Rockwell produces the best iris, for export to markets of Europe and colonial Asia."

"Oh, you own flower estates too! How delightful", Calder paused for a moment and then said, "Well, you must be wondering why I am so inquisitive about your business. The thing is, a good friend of mine has a plantation in Dunmore Landing. It has extensive shrub and flower plantation, hundreds of acres of garden with marvellous Camellias. But after Sherman's barbarious attack, it has been reduced to worthless overgrowth, infested with weed and pests. Even with hoeing and use of ample fertilizers nothing much could be done. I was wondering if you could have a look."

"Well, I don't exactly manage plantations I don't own, but I guess I could just give some advice or at least refer some expert labor."

"Thank you so much, Mr. Hamilton. Would you be so kind to pay a visit, somewhere around next week?"

"Yes, I will be traveling for business down Ashley River, so I think I can make it to Dunmore by Thursday. Where is exactly the plantation located?"

"Oh, here is my friend's card. I will immediately notify him about your kind counsel. Someone will be waiting for you at the dock.", said Calder, as he extended a white card towards him.

Wade took the card and glanced at the name printed in the elaborate style. It read :

**Rhett Butler**

**Broughton Plantation**

**Dunmore Landing**


	3. Chapter 3

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: This chapter may seem a little unnecessary, but I like to read a book with details, which reflects in anything I write. I wasn't aiming for a short story anyway! When I started to write this story, I thought "In for a penny, in for a pound", I'd write every word I'd like to read in the story, if this was written. So, sorry if you don't like this chapter, and I cannot promise there won't be any more like this, but sometimes we need to add some trivial parts to make it more real. Thank you for reading, and reviews are always welcome.**

* * *

The Ashley river was of the palest blue color, murky on the side. The muddy banks were slowly dissolving into the river to contribute a musty aroma on the boat. With the sun high in the sky, the deck was scorching and Wade flung his coat across on of the deck chairs and loosened his shirt.

When a gust of wind blew his coat off to the lower deck in a flurry, and he sighed.

He didn't know why he was making such a big deal out of this. He was just going to visit a plantation, give some advice and that would be all. Rhett Butler was just another plantation owner. But he knew there was too much history.

Wade remembered when he had written to Rhett Butler six years ago, after it was reported Scarlett was missing. He remembered how anxious he had been. Scarlett had left them for Charleston two years before that. Those two years he had wanted to see his mother, but he knew where she was, and even though he couldn't go and visit, he had felt secure. But after two years she went to her grandfather's in Savannah, and then disappeared. It had been a wrecking time for Wade. He had to calm Ella, assure her that Mother was going to come the next week. But she didn't come the next week, or the one next to that, or the yet next week either.... It had taken him every ounce of strength he had, to keep _himself _assured, that Mother will come, which she never did. When he realized their Mother had deserted them, he had to put up a happy and hopeful face for Ella.

He had written Rhett Butler a letter, from school, because he was unmentionable at Aunt Suellen's or Uncle Ashley's. He had asked if Mr. Butler knew anything about Scarlett's whereabouts. A reply had come soon enough, breaking his heart. Underneath his idiosyncratic chicanery, Rhett Butler had made it very clear that he had no idea where Scarlett was though he was aware of her disappearance. He also politely mentioned he would not like to correspond further on that account. For years Wade had seethed in loathing for that man, because he was old enough to understand the scandalous reasons of Scarlett's disappearance that were whispered behind his back all across Atlanta. Why this was _the_ Rhett Butler who made his mother the first divorcee in Atlanta!

But God knows, he had been a good stepfather, in fact, he had cared for him and Ella, more than their mother did, before and during their brief unhappy marriage. And the animosity Wade once felt had waned into indifference over the years. And he intended to keep it that way by visiting Broughton on strictly commercial terms.

" 'ello Mr. Ham'lton, don't them herons looks fine pickin' for them fishes?", called out Hector, the chirpy little negro boy, who had been on this boat's crew for more than three years.

" Ah, I'm afraid you're right Hector. Did you ever come across these places in late November?", asked Wade, happy to have been offered a pleasant distraction.

"Naw sir, I haven'. Me Mama will blow a shot right through mah head if I came to the river in winter.", Hector said gravely.

"Doesn't matter, boy. In a few years you'll be old enough to make your own decisions. Make sure you come then, these rivers are full of birds you can't see any other time of the year. Hundreds of cranes and flamingoes flock the entire length of the banks."

"Where they come from, Mr. Ham'lton?"

"They come from the frozen north. It's so cold out there in winter, everything is snow and ice. So these poor creatures come to have a feast in our south."

"Like them Yankees did?"

"Why do you say that Hector? You weren't even born when the Yankees attacked!"

"But me Mama says they're bad. They come to eat south up and leave us the spoils. Mama says they told Pap they will give him money, so Pap ran off with 'em. Then one day they come to set fire on Mama's house. Pap was one of them too, laughing at me Mama running out of the shanty town clutching me, only a month old then, to her chest."

Wade looked into the sad eyes of the dark boy standing in front of him. He misinterpreted the flashing anger as pangs of resurging grief.

*****

Wade's horse was fat and lazy, and he had a difficult time trying to keep up with Jonah, who was scuttling ahead on his blithe Thoroughbred. This slim man of few words was taking him to Broughton, he had been waiting for him in the dock for some hours. He didn't seem agitated, though.

The Broughton Plantation was an imposing estate, which had probably been one of the best in its days. From outside the plantation house still did look magnificent. But once inside the actual plantation, one could see the red walls pockmarked with bullet shells, many of the topiaries blown into half, and the beautiful ceramic birdbath in the middle of a dismal garden was chipped and cracked on the sides.

A gentleman in old-fashioned frock coat came smiling towards him, his hand outstretched.

"Good afternoon, Mr. Hamilton. I'm Landon Jobes, Broughton's overseer. Firstly I want to thank you for coming over. You don't know how helpful you are being."

"Good afternoon, Mr. Jobes. It's just some professional advice, nothing more. Please don't thank me."

"Ah, but you are so kind and humble. And you must be very tired too. Jonah here will show you your room. You can get fresh and I'll send up your refreshments."

Wade looked confused. "But I am not here to stay Mr. Jobes. I just came to see the plantations, and I will return this evening."

"But Mr. Hamilton, Mr. Butler will not be here till tomorrow morning. After a good night's rest you will be able to work on this better and you can meet him too."

"Mr. Jobes I did not come to 'work' on anything. I was asked to offer some professional advice, but if Mr. Butler cannot find time out of his busy routine, I am more than willing to abandon the idea altogether."

"Please do not be offended Mr. Hamilton. I sincerely apologize for this inconvenience, if you'll-"

Wade was becoming impatient. What kind of a joke was this? "Please don't be concerned about my hasty words Mr. Jobes. Being a businessman I understand the difficulties that arise out of the blue. But I certainly cannot stay for a night. Why don't I take a look around and I can give you the details, or maybe write them down?"

Landon Jobes looked nervous. "But....." he paused, and then his eyes lit, as if struck by sudden brilliance. "Mr. Hamilton, you can do your survey, but if you really have to leave, then you could go to Charleston! Mr. Butler would be at his home.", he pleaded.

Wade did not like the way things were turning out. Facing Rhett Butler with his plantation staff was one thing. But meeting him in his guest room, in front of his family was not Wade's idea of a professional rendezvous. He pressed Landon Jobes to warm up to his idea, but Jobes was adamant, promising him that Mr. Butler would offer 'the best hospitality in South Carolina'.

Within an hour Wade was on his boat again, with the reports of the fields and garden of Broughton in his bag, on his way to Charleston. He had no idea how or why, but he had given in to Jobes' idea. He sipped his cognac. The sun was setting on his back.

Charleston was a portly city. He didin't remember much of it, the last time he visited being almost twenty years before. The houses were handsome, an aristocratic air about them. But when their carriage pulled up in front of the Butler residence, he couldn't find the words to describe it. It was a colossal mansion, much like the Peachtree house in Atlanta, only bigger and yet less ostentatious. Jobes beckoned him towards the huge doors and knocked.

Wade was still taking in the enormity of his surroundings when the doors opened. A servant opened and ushered them into a wide and lavish guestroom, gently bowing to Wade. The servant and Jobes exchanged some quick whispered words, and the former left for the inner quarters.

Wade looked at Jobes and said, "I hope Mr. Butler makes it quick, I have to catch tonight's train back to Atlanta and it won't wait a minute past ten for me."

"But you won't have to wait that long, Mr. Hamilton." a cold female voice floated across the room. Wade spun, a little too quickly and his neck snapped. He winced and cursed his jitteriness.

A woman was standing at the door, her expression stolid. My God! Wade thought, she looks like Rhett's twin! He realized she was Rosemary Butler, the maiden sister Rhett Butler was besotted with.

"I am sorry to inform you, but Mr. Butler is not at home now. If that would be all, I wish you good night sir. Manigo will show you to the door." she said frigidly, with a stark finality and moved to a side to clear the door.


	4. Chapter 4

Silence reverberated through the room, the tension was tangible. Jobes looked from Wade to Rosemary Butler, then to Wade again. Wade fixed his eyes on Rosemary, both their gazes icy. If Rosemary felt insecure about his presence in the room, she pretended otherwise very well.

"I am sorry, Madam, Mr. Hamilton is from Atlanta, and he came to Broughton to-" Jobes was cut in by Rosemary's expressionless voice.

"I am very well aware of who our esteemed guest is," the words of respect dripped with sarcasm.

Then Rosemary Butler walked across the room and stopped several feet in front of Wade.

"If you'll please excuse us Mr. Jobes. I'd like to have a few words with Mr. Hamilton before we retire for the evening." Jobes hurried out of the room, looking relieved. Manigo went to stand in a corner discreetly.

"Mr. Hamilton, I am surprised you came to visit Broughton."

Rosemary Butler was poring into Wade's eyes. When Wade replied his tone was as cold and sneering as Rosemary's.

"Indeed, Miss Butler? Why is it so surprising to expect a businessman at another's plantation to offer some advice on the best-yielding crops? Besides, I did not come uninvited."

"My brother welcomed 'professional' advice", Wade could hear the quotation marks "not some hook from the past."

Rosemary's words struck Wade on the face, but he did his best to remain still.

"Please do not forget, madam, I did not come uninvited."

"And you please do not offer me your sincerity, Mr. Hamilton. I am unclear about your intentions, but I won't take in the claptrap."

Suddenly a distraught looking woman came into the room to stand beside Rosemary, clutching her hand.

"Please Rosemary, please be patient. I am sorry Mr. Hamilton, I apologize for the.."

"There's no need for apologizing Anne. Mr. Hamilton was just about to leave."

So, this is Anne Hampton, Rhett's wife. She reminded him of Melanie Wilkes and he turned his eyes away from her, afraid the reminder may crack his resolve.

"I'm sorry Mr. Hamilton, but Mr. Butler had to leave for some urgent business. But please do stay for dinner. I will have Manigo show you to the restroom-", Mrs. Butler's attempts to make amends for Rosemary's rude remarks were cut short by the latter again.

"Did you hear that, Wade Hamilton? My brother is not at home. If you have a decent bone in your body you will leave this house immediately, like a gentleman should and my brother too, for that matter. We don't like our privacy to be disrupted. Now If you'll please, we are two ladies alone in this house, your presence at this hour of the night will be held suspiciously in our respectable society." Rosemary Butler added the implication snidely.

"Rosemary !"squealed Anne Butler, but before she could say anything else, Wade had swooped up his hat and coat.

His voice was so cold when he spoke, a chill ran down through the ladies' spine. Anne Hampton Butler was on the verge of tears.

"There's no need to get so skittish, ladies. I had come with my humblest intentions, and I hope to leave with my honor, if not dignity, intact. Good evening."

Wade left the house like a sweep of wind.

*********

Wade had never felt so insulted in his entire life. He stood at the Charleston Station waiting for the train. Damn, it was getting cold and the train was late!

What made the insult worse was not knowing what was the reason for this little trick Rhett Butler played. He asked him for advice, then he refused to meet him! He could have written him a letter in the past week to give some excuse for canceling or, in the least, postponing the meeting. Wade would have interpreted the hint perfectly, and this ruckus could have been avoided. What kind of a gentleman puts up such a play! I guess that's how he is, thought Wade, Rhett Butler and his scams! Well, I'll be damned if I drag myself into anything to do with him again.


	5. Chapter 5

Wade was sitting in his office on Clampton Street in Atlanta, a huge pile of papers heaped on his polished ebony desk. He was sifting through the pages of his ledger, irritated at himself. He had underestimated the cotton yield from his farms. Even after fulfilling contracts and the demands of the textile factories, a thousand bales of fine cotton was surplus. He was at loss. What would he do with the cotton at this end of the season, when every textile factories have already bought their cotton? He thought about exporting them to the Asian colonies, but the cost would hardly cover the expenses in carrying the bales overseas. He eyed the unsorted mail. Maybe there would be some order from textiles there. The rice and medicinal plants would be shipped next month. With the work at the plantations going on in full vigor, and Wade could feel the heat of busiest days of the year.

He would have to go to Maxwell before the flowers are sent to the dock. Wade leaned back on his chair, and closed his eyes. He had to struggle to not let the fatigue of the past sleepless nights catch on. He called out for Phillip to bring him his coffee and tried to focus back on the ledger.

There was a knock on his door.

"Bring it in Phillip." he said, expecting his coffee.

But the mere sight of the man who walked in through the door jerked him up from his drowsiness better than any amount of coffee could have.

Rhett Butler walked in through the door.

An impeccably dressed, immaculately groomed Rhett Butler, as if the years that had passed after he saw him last were only a figment of his imagination. Age never quite caught up with this man, except in a few gray strands at his temple.

"A very good morning Mr. Hamilton." he said cordially, that same grin playing on his face, reducing years off it.

"Eh - good morning to you too Mr. Butler." Wade said, somewhat unsurely.

"Well, I must first apologize for last week's misunderstanding."

So that's what it is called, Wade thought. "There wasn't much to be misunderstood, Mr. Butler."

"Ah, so I see it's not been taken light-heartedly."

What? Didn't his wife or sweet sister tell him what happened? A madman cannot take it light-heartedly.

"I'm sure you didn't expect that either."

"Please let me explain, Wa- I mean, Mr. Hamilton. I was at Broughton, but I got a telegram from a friend saying his son had been shot by an unidentified man in Charleston. So I had to leave, but when I came to Charleston the police was looking for my friend, who in a spurt of vengeance had shot another man, apparently innocent. So I had to escort him to a safer place, until the commotion died down. I am really sorry for my conduct."

Wade didn't know if he was telling the truth or not, but even if he was, he was least interested. He wanted to do away with him as quickly as possible.

"I understand Mr. Butler, but I also have nothing more to say. I gave your plantation my time, expertise and reference. I have nothing else to offer but good wishes." Wade said with finality.

Rhett laughed.

"Well Mr. Hamilton, I do want to thank you for your kind help at Broughton. Jobes did speak highly of your views on the plantation techniques. But offering apologies and thanks is not only purpose of my coming to your highly furnished office."

"What else could you possibly be wanting, Mr. Butler?"

"You see, Mr. Hamilton, I read through the papers you wrote for Broughton. And how aptly you advised on the raring of the best species of Camellias. And, if I say I am impressed, I'd be understating it. You sir, have mastered the art of plantation, that too at such a young age when men go about chasing after belles and dreaming of the next barbeque...."

As he went on, Wade lost track of what he was saying. His business mind was busy calculating what could all this be leading to. Rhett Butler had no need to ask him for anything. Or did he want to know about Scarlett. Well, he could write Wade an Odyssey if he liked, but he was not going to tell him anything about Mother - especially not that he still hadn't been able to find out where she was.

"Mr. Butler, I'm afraid you haven't yet said why you have come, since apologies and thanks aren't the cause."

"Why Mr. Hamilton, please don't say you are on laudanum at this hour of the day! Haven't you heard what I said? I am offering you a fifty percent share in all the profits. And in return, you will manage the plantation with me, it's obviously clear you're expertise is of much more value than that of mine. In short, I want you to become a partner at Broughton. "

Wade's jaw almost dropped. He looked at Rhett Butler in surprise and confusion. What was this old man rambling about?

"I am sure I heard you wrong. You want me to be a partner at Broughton?"

"Why, don't flatter me so Mr. Hamilton. Broughton's not that grand a plantation that you should feel so shy about it."

Wade composed himself.

"No, I am sure it's not. The thing is I don't partner plantations; I buy them. What makes you think I'd gladly accept your offer to partner a dilapidated one?"

"Because we both know what Broughton can sum up to, if maintained properly. Come on now, Mr. Hamilton, I am giving you a fair offer. I have a lot going on, recovering my family fortune from the Yankees, my business; I can't possibly manage the plantation alone. And I'll admit it; I'm a late bloomer when it comes to plantations. On the other hand, this will be a perfect business prospect for you. I assure you, Broughton can fetch you profit worth any two given plantations of Georgia. And please accept this offer for one season. If you are unsatisfied, you can withdraw. No strings attached."

Wade didn't want to accept his offer. He didn't even want to consider it. But he knew the offer _was_ luring. Even when he had just seen Broughton, he had calculated how he could bring it back on shape if he were the owner. He knew he could spin more profit off the plantation than Rhett Butler or any of his ancestors had ever done. But now all he wanted was to get Rhett Butler out. So he said, what had no sincere thoughts in it.

"I'll think about it Mr. Butler. I'll let you know what I decide."

"I'll be here next Monday with my lawyer, Mr. Hamilton, for the transfer of the partnership. I hope you will have yours ready too. Good day sir."

And with that, Rhett Butler tipped his hat to a side and marched out of his office.

* * *

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: I had to think a lot before bringing Rhett in, not because I was not sure if I should bring him in, but because I didn't know if I could handle him. He's a very peculiar character, so many whims and sides to him, its difficult to make the perfect entry. I hope I did justice ! Again, reviews are welcome.**


	6. Chapter 6

Rhett was feeling better than he had felt in days. He looked out at the busy Clampton Street. Atlanta had risen from its ashes, it had mended itself like a miracle, and there was no trace of the nightmare that had struck more than twenty years ago. Atlanta had rebuilt vigorously, Atlantans had groomed themselves to the new age that the war had ushered in.

But people don't change; Rhett had learned that a long, long time ago.

Some old women hurried across the street when they saw him. Two men standing and talking in front of the newspaper stand stopped their conversation when they saw him a few steps away and avoiding his eyes, carried on their talks in low voice.

Rhett smiled ruefully. Atlanta hadn't forgiven him for the divorce. His mother hadn't forgiven him for the divorce. He hadn't forgiven himself for the divorce...It has been six years, he thought.

Rhett felt an arrhythmic throb in his heart_. May my inane little heart be cursed to the depths of hell_. Even the mere thought of her could make his heart skip a beat. Rhett had banished Scarlett from his life. Rhett had done everything he could to forget Scarlett. But the struggle had left him weak, even in the weeks after she had left he knew he would never have the energy to keep himself away from her for more than a month, forget all his life. So Rhett had done something so blasphemous, that his pain and guilt had drowned him to unfathomable depths. He had cut his heart into two. Rhett Butler had divorced Scarlett. But Rhett had been as wrong as anyone can be, when he had assumed divorcing her would mean the end to his misery. The day he signed the papers, he had died inside. There had been days when he didn't know how he spent them. Everything was a streak of blur passing by excruciatingly fast, like on a train, and he was just a mute observer sitting at the window, trying to hold back what he was leaving behind. Everyone in Charleston had congratulated him and promised him a new life, one where he would be happy. He had only indulged a smile. He had been glad; the agony inside did not show on his face. Everyone was happy for him, except Mama. She saw right through him.

_"Rhett, you shouldn't do away with it. You, of all, know you have to face your weakness to overcome it. This is as painful for her as for you. You are strangling your chance of happiness with your own hands." his mother had told him._

_" She only pines for what she can't have. She doesn't feel a thing, Mama, and neither do I" had been his bitter reply._

But Rhett knew Scarlett loved him. She was too ingenuous to feign. Her eyes tumbled out the words whenever they met with his, and he knew Scarlett could tell a thousand lies, but her eyes could never deceit. But what could he do but drive her away from him? How could he let himself be destroyed again? He would rather rot inside, knowing how the rest of his life would be, than live every day craving for her love. He now wanted to accommodate Anne in his life. He would never be able to love her; he would never be able to love anyone again. But he cared for Anne. He wouldn't trade his life with her for anything. Maybe he was not happy. He was peaceful. Sometimes abundant peace and predictability amounts to a strange and comparable substitute of happiness. But it was enough to douse the burning anguish. He was now used to feeling soothingly placid. He had been vaguely perturbed when Anne had had a miscarriage and the doctor said she could never have a baby - he knew a child would make his life better. But he had also felt relieved. He knew he'd never be able to love another child as much as he had loved Bonnie...his child, Scarlett's child, their child.

He had hated Scarlett, when she had obliged in his bed, only to wish that the caresses were another man's. He hated himself for being no better with Anne Hampton. He was courteous and gentle towards his wife; she thought he was a wonderful husband too. But Rhett couldn't lie to himself. He couldn't look at himself in the mirror, when he thought of Scarlett whenever he kissed Anne, or embraced her; when Anne mistook his passion, livid from yearning for Scarlett, to be longing for herself.

Rhett lied to himself saying he was glad to be away from the things of past. But when he learned Lennox had appointed Wade to come to his plantation, he knew his lie was just that - a lie. He knew he couldn't throw away Scarlett from his life. Maybe he would never get back to her, but he couldn't deny her presence in his life, even when she was absent from the state, even country possibly. He had been eager to meet Wade. He had wanted to see how he had grown up. Rhett knew Wade had made his place in Atlanta, all by himself. There were very few plantation owners who didn't know about 'Earnest Wade', the honest merchant who had refused to sell his goods at a mighty price when imports from Europe had been ceased, and got expelled from the merchants' association for selling at the regular price. Only within a year, he was offered the president's post at the association, which he humbly declined - his previously skeptic peers watched from sidelines as young Wade Hamilton furiously expanded his empire, even in his early twenties. Rhett had to struggle to hide his smile when he recognized Wade's mother's flair in him - shrewd as an old cashier, but never cheat a penny off of anyone. Wade had the patience of young Charles Hamilton and the honesty of Scarlett O'Hara.

Rhett reminisced when Wade was a little boy and Scarlett didn't so much as look at him. Her neglect was beaten into the boy's face. Even today, his eyes had the tired look of someone who had been deserted by their dearest one. Rhett thought would never be able to accurately sum up how many people he had hurt in his lifetime, but he knew Wade and Ella were the ones he felt most guilty for. Just like he knew Scarlett had fled because of him, she had abandoned Wade and Ella for him too. He would have done anything in the world to keep them happy; he loved them practically like his own. So when Lennox told him about Wade, he knew this was his one chance to set things right with Wade, and Ella. With Rosemary a spinster, and Anne incapable of bearing a child, who better to hand over the Butler plantation to in the future?

"Where to, sir?" asked the cabman, shaking him out of his reverie.

"Ah, I think I'll go to the station. I'll take this afternoon's train."


	7. Chapter 7

"No, for God's sake, who told you to water the field twice a day?" Wade's temper was ever rarely out of control. But today he was hardly able to keep it in a leash.

The field overseer looked apologetic, but was ignorant all the same. He looked towards the quarters on the east of the plantation, indicating Rhett had instructed him to do so.

"Do you want to grow jute or what? If you intend to grow Camellias then please stick to watering it lightly once a day, this place is moist enough already!"

Wade had, in spite of warning himself for the umpteenth time, given in to Rhett's suggestion. He had become a partner of Broughton Plantation. But Lord knows it'll be months before this forest looks anything like a plantation. The field hands were lazy and careless, the overseer was ignorant, and by the look of the ledger, Rhett Butler had a lot of money, which he didn't know where to put for good use.

Wade gave instructions to the men and padded across the fields towards his own quarters in the east wing. He wrinkled up his nose at the mud squelching beneath his feet.

"C'mon Wade, what good is a planter if he flinches at mud?" Rhett Butler was standing in the aisle and calmly smiling at him.

"Only the sensible ones are horror-struck to see Camellia gardens flooded." Wade said, clearly exasperated from the conditions of the field. He was also not taking being referred to as "Wade" instead of "Mr. Hamilton" well. But he wouldn't give Rhett Butler the satisfaction by bringing it up, and he kept ignoring it.

"Seriously, what did you do to these fields? Unless you were aiming to produce sugar cane, I'd say you have very nearly robbed the land."

"Isn't it lucky you have taken over them? I would never get used to plantation." He drifted off moodily "I would love to go back to blockade running when time permits. The open rivers, the enemy sniffing at your heels ah, the thrill."

"I am sure you would, Mr. Butler. But I am not going to be here everyday a week, and the staff seems foolish enough to wreck this place in a day if left to it. I will be able to come here only once in a fortnight, if not more infrequently. So you will have to take care of Broughton seriously. It's not enough to feel passionate about a farm, Mr. Butler. Plants grow on good care, not feelings. I have ordered azalea from Mackinsdale. It's the best quality, and a companion plant is needed - this soil is hardly acidic enough for Camellias to grow alone. And I think by the brine of the air, you will get a lot of pests by end of season when these flowers really bloom. So you need to be careful, so that the field hands recognize a canker when they see it. I'll order some copper and sulfur salts from Atlanta, it should check dieback disease. The pruning tools should be cleaned using a solution of one part household bleach to nine parts water... Are you even listening to what I am saying?"

"Sorry Wade, my you know a lot about Camellias. And they say you sow cotton like Ceres!"

Wade was in no mood for jests - Ella was coming home today and he didn't want to tarry.

"It's not my problem if you put your efforts in the plantation or not, Mr. Butler. I'll just tell you what will be best for Broughton. Whether you choose to ignore it, or take heed, is entirely up to you. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to get to the dock in half an hour if I want to catch the afternoon's train from Charleston. Good day sir."

Rhett laughed mutely to himself, as he saw Wade hopped on his horse and rode towards the gate. He looked around the fields, now weary of misuse. He could almost see it thriving in a few months. The field hands were toiling in the fields, Wade was indeed an efficient plantation manager to turn these slothful men into such hard workers. I would have to bring in everything Wade had ordered, Rhett thought.

*****

"Wade, you are late, and you look like you have rolled around in mud!" Ella complained but she smiled and threw her arms around her brother all the same, just as he stepped inside his house.

Wade laughed airily and said "What a greeting! Harvey was on time at your school, I hope."

"Oh, would you stop worrying like an old granny? Yes, he was on time and even if he hadn't been, I wouldn't have sat on the sidewalk and cried, you know!"

"Yes, I see Ella Kennedy is growing up to be a mighty woman."

"Don't say mighty, it so reminds me of Betty Calder. I met her today. Looks healthy as ever, like she has swallowed a whole calf."

"Miss Kennedy, a lady must not speak like that!" cried Mrs. Greene. She had looked after Ella for more than eight years now, from the year they first came to Atlanta to live with grandaunt Pitty. After Miss Pitty passed away, this distant relative became Ella's chaperone and lived on with them in the grand house Wade built.

"She is right Ella, Miss Sunders would be very disappointed if she learned of your conduct."

Ella made a face at the mention of her teacher, then giggled.

"So, where _were_ you? Filling in for an absentee field hand?"

Wade sighed. He didn't know how he should tell Ella about his partnering Rhett Butler's plantation. He decided to procrastinate it till dinner.

"Let me get fresh first, and let's have dinner - I'm so hungry I could eat you!"

"What is it, Wade?"

Wade wondered if Ella had taken up her persistence from their mother.

"Well, it's that... you see... I have become a partner of Rhett Butler's plantation."

Ella looked lost. Then she stuttered out. "What? How on earth? When?"

Wade explained everything that had happened over the last few weeks. Ella's face grew dark.

"Wade, you know that man cannot possibly have any good intention of having you simply as a partner. How could you even talk to him after what happened at his house?"

"I don't know. But if I smell anything wrong, I'll quit the next day, no matter what. Don't worry about it."

"You better. Or I will go talk for you, and none of us want that."

Wade smiled. His sister, the frail Ella, had seasoned into a strong lady. After Mother left, it wasn't just me who had to take up things in my own hand, Wade thought, as Mrs. Greene declared dinner was ready.

* * *

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: I know, I have changed Ella into a different kind of a person, but I think this would suit better for the story. A caterpillar-to-butterfly metamorphosis. After all, Wade and Ella are very elegant characters in this fanfic. Thank you for the constructive reviews, I hope there's more to come.**


	8. Chapter 8

The Christmas was as chilly as it could be. Atlanta was experiencing the coldest winter, and nobody let the opportunity of commenting on it slide by. The light snow and the pleasant cold were on everyone's lips.

Except Wade's. He made small talk with his guests, laughed politely at their humorless jokes and lightly danced with the ladies. But he had that nagging feeling inside his head. He had inadvertently invited Rhett Butler over to the Christmas party he was hosting at home. Well, it was not as if I had a choice, he thought. Rhett Butler was in the office when he was inviting all his peers and it would have been outright rude not to invite him and his wife. But Wade had been extra specific in mentioning "You and Mrs. Butler" and carefully omitting "Miss Butler". He'd probably leave his own house if he saw that impossible woman in his house.

But the fact that Rhett and Anne Butler were coming was not making him uneasy. In fact, he had taken Rhett's presence for granted over the past two months, just like a business associate. It was that Ella hadn't been entirely cheerful about him inviting them over. She had scolded Wade with reproachful looks.

"Good evening Wade. It sure is warm in here." a voice, which couldn't be anyone but Rhett's, spoke behind him.

Wade spun around to see Rhett Butler with Anne Hampton, both looking bookishly perfect.

"Good evening, Mr. Butler. Nice to see you again, Mrs. Butler" Wade tried hard to sound polite without being sarcastic, to Anne Hampton. She seemed bashful, and mumbled a reply. Wade showed them over to the guest's room, hoping with all heart that Ella wasn't there.

*****

Rhett sipped his champagne and smiled. Anne was having a good time, despite her desire to stay home. He was mildly surprised by Wade's taste. He knew the boy had been groomed well at his elite school, but this house spoke of refinery gained by generations of aristocracy. He smiled- Scarlett would have been proud to see her son so fitting as a _beau monde._

"Rhett, come over here." Anne called from the other end of the room.

A Rhett strode over, Anne said, brimming with enthusiasm "Do you remember how I was asking every lady in Charleston about which book to consult about Greek architecture. Look whom I have walked into. This is Ella Kennedy, she is quite knowledgeable about Greek architecture and suggested me names of books even you haven't heard of."

Rhett wouldn't have believed his eyes if he had had one more glass to drink. The girl whom Anne introduced smiled at him politely - Ella Kennedy was looking like a very remote relative of the ginger-haired, pimply and ruddy-faced Ella he had often jounced on his back. Her hair was a flowing mass of bronze, her complexion had paled into a delicate pink and her gray eyes shone like glitter. Her long hands were poised; her tall stature had nothing ungainly about it. Ella Kennedy was nothing short of beautiful.

"Good evening Mr. Butler." Ella said.

"Good evening Miss Kennedy. I have heard a lot about you from Wade." was all the quick-to-the-word Rhett Butler could manage.

Anne excused herself saying she wanted to talk to Mrs. Boyne, leaving Rhett and Ella to themselves in awkward silence. Rhett regained his composure.

"So, Miss Kennedy, you are interested in Greek architecture?"

"Please call me Ella. 'Miss Kennedy' sounds awkward. And, yes, Greek architecture intrigues me."

"What exactly are you studying in Cartersville?"

"Its classical literature. But I do want to study history too."

The evening wore on, and Rhett couldn't help but be mesmerized by Ella. He spent almost his entire time listening to Ella's views on Pliny, Pander, and Catalos. She knew more about literature than any woman he had known. Or any man, so to speak. And, she was only almost seventeen!

Though Rhett Butler knew it was none of his business, and that his unwanted concern would probably retract Ella, he asked, "Are you planning to take the Grand Tour, then?"

Ella looked surprised then her face drew an expression of anger and sorrow.

"I awfully want to. But Wade wants me to go with him and he can't find time out of his business."

"Why you could go with an older lady, can't you?"

"Yes, I asked my chaperone. She thinks Europe is filled with jewel thieves. And everyone in Atlanta is dead-set about not letting me go anyway. Everyone here is our unassigned guardian, you see. It's endearing sometimes, but mostly it's annoying."

Rhett laughed. Yes, Ella had got her mother's candor, and suddenly Rhett felt an open respect for her.

Ella looked at Rhett; her gentle eyes were piercing all of a sudden.

"What are you in for, Mr. Butler? I know Wade's too docile to say it, but I am not. And I don't care whether it's unladylike of me to ask."

Rhett knew he had only one card to play. The only way to survive in front of her is to tell the truth. And that I shall.

He looked at Ella for a long moment, sighed and began to explain. He said everything he had to say - about his plan to give Wade Broughton, about Anne. A gentleman would have shied away from broaching such topics with a lady, but Rhett Butler knew to respect souls who could look at things the way they were and call it by the appropriate name. He knew Ella Kennedy was going to understand every emotion he had to explain, young though she was.

As Rhett climbed into his carriage after an exhaustive evening and lazed beside a humming and cheerful Anne, he knew he had gained a very close friend in the course of the evening.


	9. Chapter 9

"Don't tell me you are going to get potatoes to farm in that Fayetteville Plantation!"

"What else can I do, I wouldn't have bought that plantation even if it cost less than a bowl of tobacco. But Granduncle Henry left it to me, and wanted me to 'turn it into a fine plantation like Walnut Grove' to quote his own words. It didn't matter to him that he vandalized the already good-for-nothing soil with his still worse methods. Why do people with no idea about plantation try their hand at it? With land prices hiking, its a crime ruining the commodity." said Wade, almost as incredulous as Stephen, his longtime friend, who was calling in on him after half a year.

"So, you are intent on mending it?" laughed Stephen over his glass of drink.

"Yes, I have to, because maintaining a wrecked plantation and its useless staff is tenfold costlier than restoring it. By the look of the soil it's not going to grow cotton or herbs, or even rice for that matter. Its too acidic, but perfect for potato."

"Wade, you are the most uncommonly shrewd planter I have known. You can't bear to let a piece of land go to waste can you? Just plant some cotton; you have enough seed to sow it ten times over in all your farms. If the crop withers, you can just scrape it off."

"Do keep your ideas to yourselves, Stephen, you will make your forefathers turn in their graves. You are lucky you brother is not as empty-headed as you, when it comes to plantations. Your family plantations would be up in auction with no one to claim it for ten dollars if you were in charge of them."

"I wish I could refute that, but I can't. So, are you planning on ordering the potato seeds the end of this season?"

"Yes, I think I'll ask Franklin to pack in some potato when he goes to sell the cotton bales to Liverpool."

"Liverpool? Potatoes? Ha! Don't make me laugh. From where did you collect that idea? If you want potatoes, talk Ireland, Wade. Ireland has so many varieties, why there should be a potato on its flag!"

"Ireland? Hmm. Well, I don't think the prospects are too good for Ireland. It's really boiling with undercurrent rebellions. The Fenians are waiting for the first opportunity to thwart the English."

"All the more opportunity to make a brisk business, isn't it? The Irish will sell their goods to a darky for all that matters, instead of the English. An American, who'll pay a decent price sounds like heaven beside that."

"That does make sense, but if I want business done in this riff-raff I have to go down myself. And I can't manage that now with so much on my hand."

"When do you want to plant them?"

"Well, to get the best yield potatoes should be planted two weeks or so before last killing frost of spring. So I have more than a month or so."

Wade saw Stephen was no longer in their conversation; his eyes were wandering across the lawn where Ella had just come out from the house. Uh-oh, Wade thought, here comes the civil war. He would never understand why Ella and Stephen argued like old grannies over trivialities like credibility of the Trojan War or which of Dickens' novels was better than the other. He would have understood if they were in love with each other, but they were not. No lady can be love with a man and bicker like an old maid with him, and no gentleman could be in love with a lady who did so. He sighed when Ella walked over towards them, with a smile, he recognized as a signal to summon the war.

*****

Wade was collecting the papers on his desk in the morning, when Rhett Butler walked in.

"Good morning Mr. Butler, what a pleasant surprise. Oh, yes, Ella thanked you very much for the book on eclogue you gave her - very 'enlightening', as she put it."

Rhett chuckled. "Yes, it was Anne's idea actually, since she is restricted to staying home for her given condition, she wanted to see Ella. But you disappointed her; Wade, by refusing to take Ella to our house. So she resorted to corresponding through the letter and gift."

That Anne Butler was pregnant, hadn't appeased Ella into going to the same house where Rosemary Butler had insulted her brother, it didn't matter that Rosemary didn't live in that house any more.

"It was not I who refused. Ella didn't want to go herself, and not on account on Mrs. Butler, I assure you. She has become quite her favorite."

"Ah, yes. I can imagine why Ella wouldn't want to go there. She is a proud little creature. Just like her mother."

Wade's head shot up to face Rhett. This was the first time Scarlett had been mentioned in their conversation. He resumed to his work and changed the subject.

"Well, I wouldn't be at Broughton for the next two weeks. I am going to go to Galway. Olympic leaves tomorrow."

"So the frequent trips to Ireland in the last month has paid off. The Fayetteville Plantation has got back its colors, I have been told. It's really a miracle you do to your plantations, Wade. Rumor has it, you are even going to buy off a plantation in Ireland."

"It's no rumor. In fact, I am going to make deals for a wheat plantation in Ballintober of Roscommon County."

"Now what does the planter has over your head to sell it off? That too, wheat?"

"Wheat has good prospects in Europe, and laugh you might, but if I can spin your Broughton to yield the profit it is making already, the Réimse óir Ballintober will be worth pots of gold within months."

"Hang! Keep you plantation ambitions to yourself son, it does my old profiteering mind no good."

Wade kept rummaging in his papers and decided not to comment on the remark. Rhett Butler was in a cheerful mood, and he continued.

"So when do you plan coming back?"

"In a week or so, you know, after starting off the initial process. After that I'd visit once in a month, I suppose."

Rhett walked over beside Wade and put a hand on his shoulder." Wade, you are earning more money than any decent gentleman in whole of three states. Why are you burdening yourself with a plantation across the goddamn Atlantic Ocean?"

His eyes were very sincere, and there was a caring concern in his voice. Fatherly, was it? Wade thought.

"I am going to need all the connections I can get, if I want to put the potatoes I am growing in Fayetteville to good use, Mr. Butler. With Ireland up in arms, I have to be in good terms with the people to get any work done."

But Wade himself did not believe this excuse. Frankly, he didn't know why he was buying an estate in Ireland, no matter how profitable it is. It was as if someone was urging him to buy it - that something exciting was lying in the green pastures of Galway. He just didn't know what it was.

On board the Olympic, the luxury ship, Wade lounged on the deck looking at a very scarlet twilight across the Charleston harbor, and wondered what exactly his intuition was leading him to.


	10. Chapter 10

The Victorian house was grand, and the cherry blossom tree in the sloping lawn in front of the house was a dainty complement to its flawless masonry. The tables were set out, covered in feathery linen, weighed down by perfectly polished silver that reflected generations of the British regime in the poor Irish counties.

The ladies looked a little huffed in their pile of bustle skirts, and had used every bit of shade of the trees to their convenience, so Wade stood idly beside the tall topiary. The weather was charming, with mellow sunshine and blue sky, so very foreign to the rain-washed Galway, and everyone seemed mildly flustered about the 'heat'. Wade smiled - he had almost forgotten the Georgia heat in the past few rainy weeks in Ireland, the bright day was a blessing. The mild aroma of the food wafted across the garden and Wade inhaled deeply. He had been to London and other parts of Europe, on short business meetings, and had never really leaned back and appreciated the continent, its rich culture going deep into centuries. The last two weeks had been different. Apart from his business dealings he had taken time off, which he seldom did, to explore the county and socialize with the British landlords and even some of the Irish tenants. For the first time, he had somewhat strayed from his impersonal approach to plantations. He even liked going to the parties he had been amicably invited to.

He had been successful in accomplishing what he had wanted to. The landlords, neighbors of his plantation or not, were delighted to have a real businessman around, and not some gentle bloke who had inherited estates about which he knew as little as his inexperienced fathers. The estates had been run by generations of inexpert heirs, who had done little to maintain them well, if not make them worse. Finally, there was a qualified planter, whose examples they could follow. To say the least, the tenants of the estate were in awe. They had been reluctant; their vague ideas of Americans stirred no less fear than British. But after a few brave (and broke) tenants took refuge in Réimse óir Ballintober, the word spread through the county like wildfire that the American was charging obscenely low rent, and paying obscenely high wages to field laborers. In less than a week, Wade's plantation and the estate teeming with activity. The admiring neighbors took to young, ambitious estate-owner; the ladies took to the young, handsome Wade Hamilton. If it took very little time for the gentleman Wade to be welcomed in the coterie of the exclusive landlords, it took even less time for the straight businessman Wade to be accepted in the circle of the peasants.

Leticia Reynard was caught glimpses of Wade Hamilton, in every possible opportunity without attracting her friends' attention. She felt so strange about that man, there was something very melancholic buried deep inside him. She had talked to him in the parties, and having grown up in a very haughty echelon of the society, his earthy humility had struck her. There was something about his polite reticence that set him apart from the crowd. Just what it was, Leticia could not place. Maybe he misses home, and doesn't like the Irish weather, she shrugged off. Casting a glance about her, she saw her friends were busy laughing at the humorless jokes of Richard Lawley. She walked over to the topiary where Wade was standing, a champagne flute in his hand, looking far-off, his back towards her.

"Mr. Hamilton, how nice to see you again!"

Wade turned to see her, dangling her delicate white-gloved hand in front of him. He took it delicately and hovered his lips over it for a few seconds.

"Miss Reynard, it is awfully kind of you to take notice of the American nomad." He smiled warmly.

Leticia blushed- so he did remember Meg's tactless epithet from the last hunting party, when he had been coaxed to talk about his intercontinental business by her brother.

"So, how is Ireland treating you?"

"Nothing to complain about, I should say. It's a bless that the sun is out. I thought I'd forget the color of sunshine if I don't leave for America a week earlier than scheduled."

"Oh, so you're leaving for America?" Leticia's voice sounded crestfallen, before she could try to hide it.

But Wade Hamilton politely overlooked it and stated, "Yes, I will be leaving the end of this week."

"What a shame you can't stay for the Season. It's just starting."

"Well, staying for the Season wasn't my intention anyhow. I am glad I could attend a few parties, though. They are really a merry break from the bills and tax receipts."

"Isn't it a pity there are so few charming ladies in the enterprise to create happy distractions?"

"Ah, but a man learns to live with it. Besides, I don't want to jeopardize my deals for a contender who can very well snatch it all away with a fillip."

"Oh, so you believe it's just feminine charm that holds a woman at a better disposition than a man. Why, that is indeed a very unexpected predilection from you." Leticia frowned in mock petulance.

Wade laughed.

"Please don't misunderstand me, I mean no ill. I just think, us men will be the sorry lot, if women choose to leave their merry preoccupations and try their hand in business. In fact, I'll let you on a guilty secret- we can bawl as much, but women do possess an uncanny perseverance that we could never account for."

"You seem very knowledgeable about women, Mr. Hamilton."

"I have a sister who is as hardheaded as Athena."

"Oh, indeed?"

"Yes, she is uncommonly opinionated for a woman her age."

"Well, you should wait till you meet the Lady of Ballyhara. She'll be here shortly, I have been told. She is a remarkable lady, and I'm afraid she'll only fortify your idea."

This was not the first time he had heard about the Lady of Ballyhara. Everyone here seemed to be awestruck by her. She had turned a ruined estate into a flourishing town. He was certainly looking forward to meet her.

A stodgy man, in late twenties came to stand beside them, and he started talking to Leticia without any introduction or excuse to Wade, as if he weren't there.

Wade excused himself and made to leave them. But Leticia spoke. "Please, Mr. Hamilton, pray wait for a minute. Roger was just about to leave."

Wade felt a little embarrassed by Leticia's rudeness, and Roger's grave stare, but before he could make some excuse for leaving, Roger left. A few harmless drops of rain fell on their heads- Wade looked up to see the sky had clouded without them noticing. Leticia said "Come, Mr. Hamilton, let's go inside. The sky is souring up, I do want to get in before it rains."

Inside the big reception hall, where the food was laid out, everyone seemed sorry to have to move in. Amidst the clutter of china and silver, they were joined by Leticia's friends who went on talking about their wonderful vacation in Paris, to which Wade discreetly supplemented his own experiences in short. After an hour, Wade was ready to be out of there at any cost, and Leticia read his silence. She said "I think Mr. Hamilton should meet the Lady of Ballyhara, his business appetite would be quite sated by her, don't you think?" The girls acknowledged and immediately their topic shifted to her. Wade and Leticia retired from the table.

"There she is. Isn't she the most charming lady in the room? I wish-"

But Wade was no longer hearing her. His breath had caught in his throat, and he felt his senses had been numbed. His heart was racing, and his fingers balled into fists in his pocket.

The Lady of Ballyhara was indeed the most charming lady in the room. He raven hair was bundled fashionably on her head, her watered-silk dress was tailored impeccably, and her complexion could turn Aphrodite envious. Despite her soft and calm face, her green, cat-like eyes were flashing, like burning pieces of emerald. Wade felt the people and the meters between them were as inconsequential as the long years in which he had not seen her.

For the Lady of Ballyhara was none other than Scarlett O'Hara.


	11. Chapter 11

Scarlett was feeling uneasy, as she squinted out of the corner of her eyes, to see the young man staring at her. She couldn't recall who he was, but there was something so familiar about him. Who was he? Why was he looking at her like a ghost?

"Scarlett, dear. Is anything bothering you? What took you so long to join, this Season?" John Morland asked, distracting Scarlett from her discomfiture.

"Uh ... I... No, the tenants, rents, taxes. You know how it is."

"I'm not sure I do. Scarlett, you are straining yourself over Ballyhara. It's going better than most of the estates in whole of Ireland, but I don't know why you are working yourself up like this. But anyway, let's have some fun over the next few weeks."

"Yes, that would be lovely. How is Lorena doing?"

John swelled up in pride at the mention of his best mare. "She is fit as a fiddle and already taking jumps higher than any Shetland I have ever seen!" He looked to his side, to see it was Leticia Reynard who nudged him.

"Oh, Scarlett, yes have you met the newest estate owner in Ireland? Mighty brilliant a landowner he is." John Morland said as he introduced the young man to Scarlett. The man had thick auburn hair, a kind face and the softest of brown eyes. As he extended his hand, suddenly Scarlett realized why he had looked so familiar. He reminded her of ... she couldn't even bring herself to think. She steadied herself and said "Good Morning, Mr..." trailing off, waiting for him to introduce himself.

"Hamilton. Wade Hamilton."

*****

Scarlett didn't know how, but somehow, she had managed to excuse herself from John, Leticia, Adam and everyone else who had flocked her. Somehow she was now standing on the deserted porch, with the cool breeze, moist yet crisp, sending tremors through her body. She looked at the person standing in front of her... Wade Hamilton... her son, Wade Hamilton...

"How... What... "Scarlett's voice died in her throat. Her eyes were blurred with tears she was trying to hold; her mind was clogged.

Scarlett silently walked up to Wade. Tears streaking down her eyes made spots in the rouge on her cheek, but Scarlett couldn't care less. There was a storm tearing inside her head, but the look on Wade's face instilled a calm she hadn't known for years. He stood tall before her, his eyes were looking only at her, but she could sense the storm inside him too. Neither of them knew what to say; neither of them knew the right words.

When Scarlett slowly put a hand on Wade's face, Wade's eyes flickered with emotion.

"We... missed you." His voice shook.

"Oh, Wade!" Scarlett threw her arms around Wade's neck.

Scarlett sat on the swing looking out to the vineyard behind the mansion, Wade's hand was held against her cheek. The silence between them was not awkward, just a retrospective one.

"When did you come here, Mother?" Wade broke the silence.

"Six years ago. I left Charleston for Savannah, where I met my O'Hara cousins. I came here with one of them, when I learned of the divorce." Wade sighed inwardly because didn't find any strain in her voice when she spoke of the ordeal." I bought Ballyhara, the land of the great O'Haras and have been reinstating it since."

Then Scarlett looked up at Wade, as if suddenly emotions had awakened her from her shock. She cupped Wade's face in her hands. Her eyes were roving his face, like that of a mother who sees her son returning intact from war.

His face was a gentle one- despite its firmness, childishly candid and Scarlett's heart wrung when she realized she hadn't been there to see the mild-mannered, shy child grow into this man. She spoke with a strange urgency, as if Wade was going to vaporize momentarily.

"Wade, tell me, how have you been? How did you manage? You.. and Ella? Have you had enough money? And do you live in Tara? Are you..."

Wade smiled a little and took her hands from his face, and held them in his lovingly. "We have been well, Mother. We managed well with the money you kept for us. And no, we live in Atlanta. I have a house there. Ella stays with me, and Mrs. Greene. She is a chaperone to Ella. We have been taken care of Mother. Everyone has been very kind."

Scarlett smiled bitterly; she could tangibly feel the lack of truth behind those words. "Wade, I am seeing you after God knows how long. Please be honest with me. I have taken enough blows in my life, I am sure I can take a few more."  
Wade winced. "Ella and me have been well, I am not lying about that. There _were_ people who took care of us."

"Why did you leave Tara?"

Scarlett was looking deeply into Wade's eyes; he couldn't put up his game anymore.

"Uncle Will... died. He left Tara to me, and Aunt Suellen had to look after their three daughters. It would have been indeed impossible to look after us too. So, we... um, left for Atlanta and stayed with Aunt Pitty. I went to West Point as you had intended."

"And Ella?"

"Oh, she's the most brilliant student of Cartersville School for Women. She is already an expert in Classical Literature and Architecture!"

"Oh, that is the most wonderful news. What about you, Wade? Did you go to University after West Point?"

"Yes, I went to Harvard and studied law. But already I was managing Tara. I couldn't just leave it to Aunt Suellen, because she would not have managed it well, by herself. And I knew how much Tara meant to you and Grandpa. So I promised Aunt Suellen that when her daughters grow up, I would give Tara to them, only then had she agreed to let me look after the plantation. And eventually, after leaving university I took up business."

"Wade, you have to go to Ballyhara with me today."

"What? No, you'll be staying through the Season and I'll be leaving this weekend."

Scarlett looked white and groped at Wade's hand. "No, please Wade, come with me. I don't care for this Season enough to let you go away just after I have met you for the first time in six years!"

"Don't worry, Mother, I'll be coming again. I now own an estate in Ballintober. I'll visit in a month or two again."

"No! You are coming with me and I won't hear another word."

****

The train to Galway rattled over the green meadows casting a looming shadow in the damp grass. Wade had been sleeping beside the window, his forehead pressed to the cold glass pane. He woke with a start, then opened his eyes and wiped the dewy windowpane to see clearly. A faint golden sunbeam was streaming in through a small breach in the dark clouds.

Wade rewound the day in his head slowly and felt a flutter of excitement. He couldn't wait to tell Ella about Mother. He couldn't wait to know more about Mother.


	12. Chapter 12

Scarlett almost ran the last few steps to her house. Wade caught up with her, a little surprised to see his mother's anxiousness to get home. He followed Scarlett into the house to see a very perplexed old lady, who gave them a half-hearted welcome.

"Good evening Mrs. O'Hara. Your early arrival is indeed a surprise." she said.

"I'm sorry Mrs. Fitzpatrick. I had to come. Let me introduce you to my son, Wade Hamilton. He is from America. Wade, this is Mrs. Fitzpatrick, our housekeeper."

The old lady looked genuinely shocked, as the information registered in her mind.

"Where's Cat, Mrs. Fitzpatrick?" Scarlett asked breathlessly.

"She's in her room upstairs, Mrs. O'Hara."

Wade felt a little odd- Scarlett seemed so dazed about... a cat? Is that why she was being so restless? But before Wade could gather his thoughts, Scarlett tugged at his sleeve. "Come Wade, come with me." she said, her urgency almost panicked Wade.

"Is something wrong, Mother?" he asked tentatively.

Scarlett barely heard him as she was flying across the steps, dragging Wade behind her.

Scarlett stopped in front of a room, whose door was open wide. Wade looked over Scarlett's head to see a little girl poring over a page, scribbling with a pencil as attentively as only a child can.

Scarlett whispered, "Cat?"

The little child looked up and her face lit up. "Mother!" and she ran across the room into Scarlett's arm.

Wade stood behind them, stupefied. Did he hear right? "Mother"? Scarlett had borne this little girl? When? Was she... a Butler? But Rhett definitely didn't know about her. Or did she marry again? Or didn't? There was a maelstrom of questions inside his head.

Scarlett's watery voice ripped Wade out of his thoughts. "Wade, I'd like you to meet Cat O'Hara."

The little girl looked up, and something struck in Wade's heart. The girl had a perfect olive skin, and dark hair; her crystal green eyes a stark contrast in her dusky face. She smiled and said "Hullo, Wade."

Wade knelt down in front of her. "Hello, Cat."

Scarlett looked at her daughter closely for her reaction, and said. "Do you know who Wade is, honey? He's my son, just like you're my daughter."

Cat seemed to be thinking deeply, with a tiny frown on her forehead. Then, as if hit by sudden revelation, she triumphantly said, "So, you are my deartháir!"

Wade looked confused. "What does that mean, Cat?"

Cat looked at Wade with reproach. "Oh, you don't know anything. Didn't anyone teach you? Deartháir means big brother."

"Sorry. You see, Wade is not as smart as Cat." Wade said gravely, curbing a smile.

Cat stifled her laughter and patted Wade's shoulder and very sincerely said, "Don't worry. I will teach you to be smart." Then she turned to Scarlett and added "Momma, I want to go to the kitchen." and without even waiting for Scarlett's approval she ran off towards the stairs. Before going down the stairs she looked back at Wade and said very seriously "You can join me if you like, Wade. I will ask Deirdre to let you help me mix the flour for the pie."

Wade laughed lightly, despite himself. Then he looked at Scarlett, who was still staring at the staircase. Without meeting Wade's eyes, she said, "I have a lot to explain."

*********

Wade was sitting on a cozy sofa in the guestroom of the Big House. The plates of scones, biscuits, sandwiches and cakes lay untouched on the table in front of him. The tea was cold.

He looked at Scarlett, who now sat on the chair opposite to him, after pacing up and down the room for half an hour.

"So, that's all that happened, after I left Atlanta." Scarlett finished.

Wade sat silent for a long while.

Scarlett fidgeted impatiently with the hem of the skirt. Then she burst out, "Oh, please say something, Wade. Anything. I know I am to be blamed."

Wade continued staring at the floor. He was still digesting everything Scarlett had told him- Scarlett had left for Charleston to convince Rhett of her love, and he refused. So she went to Savannah, and met her Irish kin, and came to Galway. But then she found out Rhett had divorced her, and before she could come back to change his decision she got the news of Rhett marrying Anne Hampton. In the middle of all this, she realized she was carrying Cat, an accident during the loveless days of her stay in Charleston.

Wade slowly raised his head and said quietly "Why didn't you go back and tell Mr. Butler about Cat?"

"I couldn't Wade. You know how crazy he is about children. If I didn't tell him, everyone would have called Cat a bastard and if I did, he would have taken away Cat from me, and she was the only one person I had completely to myself."

Wade averted his eyes, smiled wistfully and said, "You had us too."

Scarlett's eyes shot up, and she seemed surprised to see such emotions in Wade's face. She whispered between her tears "I am sorry Wade. I know you and Ella will never be able to forgive me."

"Please don't ask for forgiveness, Mother, at least not for leaving. You could have come to us too. We would have understood. Wouldn't I, Ella or Uncle Will have helped you with Cat?"

"So, you are not angry at me for deserting you and Ella?"

"No, you did what you had to do. Only you misjudged how much you mean to all of us. It would have been easier to bear the hardships if you had shared it with us."

Scarlett looked searchingly at Wade. Then she sat in horror at what she had done. She had measured Wade and Ella in her own terms. She had thought of them as selfish, egocentric beings as she had once been. She had expected them to condemn her, as she would have, for being heartless. But she had been wrong- she could see it clearly etched on the concerned face of Wade. She suddenly remembered Melanie- oh, Melly, who had supported her, loved her, despite every mean thing she had done to her. She could see the same forgiving, benign disposition in Wade. Wade was truly a Hamilton.

She walked over to Wade, and sat kneeling in front of him, running her hand through his hair.

"Wade, I... I had never been kind to you or Ella. I had never been kind to anyone, actually. But after all of that, I had been left with so little, I had realized money wasn't everything, and that we have very little to cherish in our life. I had realized that after I had Cat. And from that day, I had learnt to forget everything, forgive everyone. I don't hold anything against Rhett or Anne. But everyday I thought about you and Ella, how you must be growing up. I tried to learn about you through Colum, my cousin, who goes to America once in a while. But he couldn't get me any news, and I longed to see you. I was starting a new life here, building it with my own hands. There was everything I wanted in this new life- peace, happiness, Cat- everything except you and Ella. I wanted to take you two out of America and bring you both here, and my life would have been complete. But I couldn't, because I couldn't give away everything I had worked for by letting everyone in Atlanta know where I am. Oh, Wade, I am so happy today..."

Wade meant every word when he replied, "I am too, Mother. I am too."


	13. Chapter 13

Wade walked briskly down the pebbled walk, towards the stable of Réimse óir Ballintober, his fingers fiddling with the shriveled paper in his pocket.

"Your horse, sire." The stable boy brought out his horse. He was going to ride to Ballyhara before leaving for America that afternoon. His luggage was already at the dock.

"Thank you, Marc, I'll take it from here." he said absent-mindedly as he handed the boy a few shillings.

Before mounting his horse, Wade took the paper out of his pocket and pressed it smooth with his fingers, to read the telegram again.

Please come back soon. Mrs. Butler died at childbirth, as did the child. Funeral on 18th. Ella.

Wade crumpled the paper and threw it in the mud, before galloping off towards the Carraigeacha Road.

*********

Cat was lying on her belly, jotting down her points very carefully on the sheet of paper. She was loving the new game Wade had bought her, and the name made her giggle- bagatelle.

Wade shoved the ball with his cue, and it got stuck in the left 3 pins.

Cat groaned. "No!"

Wade laughed, and picked out all his dead balls, but Cat stood up. "Not fair. I don't want to play this game."

"Come on, Cat. Okay, see, I won't revive my dead balls. You shoot."

Cat seemed satisfied as she rolled on her back, once again, knitting her eyebrows together in concentration.

Scarlett sat on the sofa, with the ledger on her lap, watching them quibble. She sternly said "Cat, don't argue like that with your brother."

"It's alright. She is very competitive." Wade said mirthfully, then added, looking pointedly at Cat "But I am sure, she will be losing sorely to me."

"No way. I am going to win, and you are going to cry." Cat huffed.

Scarlett laughed. "Wade, how long are you doing this plantation business? Bart said you are mighty good. I couldn't have imagined you, not going into law practice."

"Well, everything doesn't turn out the way we think they would. But I am quite satisfied with this business. It's thriving."

"Oh, Wade, you must be the best plantation-owner in Georgia. I bet everyone in Atlanta is so proud of you."

"Yes, I suppose. But it's not only in Georgia. I own a plantation in South Carolina too. In fact, I partner another one too."

"Oh, South Carolina too? Where?"

"I own a cotton plantation in Summerville."

"And the other one?"

"It's near Charleston." Scarlett's smile froze and Wade bit into his tongue.

"Where?"

"Charleston. Up the Ashley River, in Dunmore Landing."

"Is it... ?"

"Yes. It's Broughton."

"You... You partner Rhett Butler's plantation?"

"Em... yes. He had asked, as a professional, to be a partner. I would help in rebuilding it, and... get half of the profit."  
Scarlett was looking at Cat. A storm of emotions haunted inside her, but her face was frigid and pale. "Does he know?"

"Does he know what?"

"That you are here? That you have found me?"

"He knows about me being in Ireland for a plantation. But no, not about you."

"Make sure he never knows."

"He won't know. You have my word." Wade looked anxiously at Scarlett. "Do you want me to leave Broughton, Mother? I mean, I would say I am having problems juggling so many plantations together, and that I can't partner it anymore."

Scarlett turned to face him so suddenly, Wade felt she would snap her neck.

"No!" she said urgently. "He would be suspicious. No, act like nothing happened."

Then she suddenly broke into a smile. As if all the worries plaguing her a moment before had evaporated, she calmly said "Don't worry, Wade. It's alright. I just panicked when I thought, Rhett might know about Cat. But I know he won't. He's probably living happily with his children running around his happy home."

Wade bit his lip."Mrs. Butler died. They couldn't have a child."

"Oh." Genuine shock passed Scarlett's face. They sat in silence.

"Wade, I won!" Cat squealed in delight.

"How did you figure that one out?" Wade asked, his good mood restored.

Cat walked over to him, and triumphantly presented the sheet of paper, where she had scribbled down their scores and tallied them, with the help of lots of scratches.

"Ah, well, it's my bad luck." He remarked, as he scratched his chin in mock penitence. "If you love this game, so much, I might bring a backgammon set when I come next time."

Cat clapped her hands happily, as Wade ruffled her hair. He stood up, and looking down at Scarlett said, "Well, I have to leave now. My ship leaves by four. So I better be going."

"Oh, yes. You better not be late. Come, Cat, let's see Wade off at the door."

A light drizzle had started, and Wade's horse looked skittish. Wade quickly bade goodbye to Scarlett, but before he could set off Cat made him promise to bring a pound of chocolate éclair and another board game.

The farmers looked suspiciously as the American rode off down the boreen. Everybody knew the man was a spy of the English. Why did The O'Hara invite him to Ballyhara? The Fenians would not spare The O'Hara if she kept on associating with these men. There would be nothing left to do to save her, with the witch's child in her lap and the English spies in her guestroom.

"Momma, why didn't you tell me about Wade? I really like him." Cat said as she saw Wade vanish around the bend of the road.

Scarlett barely heard her. She was lost in deep thought. _Rhett was a widower…_


	14. Chapter 14

Wade was sitting on the edge of the table, thinking how he should broach the subject. Ella could feel his tension, even from the moment he had set his foot in the house- she said, "Is there anything you want to tell me, Wade?"

"Would you please excuse us, Mrs. Greene. I want to talk to Ella... alone."

Mrs. Greene left the room, shutting the door with an audible click that echoed through the silence in which they sat.

"Ella," Wade began "there's something you should know."

Ella looked at him strangely; as if she could almost sense what he was about to say.

"I think it's time for you to take your grand tour. And you should start with Ireland... that's where Mother is."

Ella stood frozen in her place. Wade tried to read her face, but it had been wiped of everything. She seemed petrified. "What did you say?"

"I met Mother, on my last visit to Ireland. She lives in her own estate."

Ella's eyes grew wide, then she looked around slowly, as if searching for a reason to not believe Wade. Her knuckles went white as she clutched the back of a chair painfully. "Did... what is... " Ella cleared her throat to stop choking from tears. "What had happened?"

Wade walked over to Ella, and guided her to take a seat in a chair. Then he started relating the story his mother had told him more than a week ago.

After he finished, Ella sat silent for a few long minutes.

"What do you think, Ella? Mother asked me to take you to Ireland next time."

Ella slowly shook her head, then lifted her chin and very decisively said "No."

Wade looked bewildered. "What?"

"I don't want to see her."

"What are you talking about? You don't want to... What do you mean you don't want to see her? She's... She's Mother!"

"I don't want to meet our _mother_, who abandoned us to run off."

Wade looked lost. What was Ella saying?

"But she did what she had to do, I told you everything!"

"No Wade, I won't settle for that. She did what suited her. Just like always."

Wade couldn't believe his ears. Ella, this little girl whom he had known from her birth, the beautiful person, was being so... judgmental. That too about their Mother!

"Ella, will you just listen to yourself? You sound-"

"I sound rational, Wade. No, I don't feel compassion for someone who could leave her children to fend for themselves."

Ella was practically shouting by now, and Wade continued to talk in a level voice, trying to show her reason.

"Do you think life would have been easier for any of us, if she had stayed back, with a out-of-wedlock child?"

"Wade, it is easier to be spurned by the society, than being rejected by your own mother!"

"Then why are you so set against meeting her?"

"I don't forget, Wade. No matter how much she tries she could never make up for those years. And I am not going to stick around to wait and see if she does."

Then with a pause, she looked with narrowed eyes at Wade.

"What is it with you, Wade? Don't you see what has happened to you? Why have you become so impersonal to your life, with a very third party approach to it?"

Wade sighed. He felt suddenly tired.

"It is easier Ella. To let the trouble subside to an apathetic proportion. It is easier to deal."

They both stood in silence, as Wade walked over to the hearth. Staring into the fire, he spoke. "Ella, please, don't decide now. It's obviously a big news, and it'll take some time for you to-"

"No Wade! No. I don't need time. I don't need time to forget everything. I will never forget how Aunt Suellen made you work like a field hand, how she made me clean the kitchen when everyone went to sleep in the afternoon. I will never forget how much she had argued with Uncle Will, when she found out Mother left us money to be sent to school. 'That boy will be of no use, unless he works here.' she had said. Oh, yes I know it. I know why you always ate on the porch because you never had ham left in your plate after you shoved your meager share into mine. I knew every time Dilcey put compresses on your back, after Aunt Suellen beat you with Grandpa's riding crop. Oh it was heavenly of her to drive us out after Uncle Will died, otherwise she might us worked us to death. So forgive me, for not feeling very benevolent towards our precious mother for having a perfect life in God-forsaken Ireland, while we rot in inattention here."

Wade cringed inside, at the bitterness dripping in Ella's voice. Wade had successfully buried his past, busied himself with his plantations and his indifference had been his perfect weapon. But Ella was a passionate person, and her pride and passion didn't let her forget the past.

"Ella, she had to think about Cat too, you know. The little girl would have been ostracized by everyone."  
"Cat, is it? So she had to leave to ensure a happy life for Cat, is that what you are saying?" The bitter smile on Ella's face, glistening with tears, cut right through Wade's heart. "What does that reduce us to, Wade? We are her children too. Or we don't mean that much, eh? Hell, Cat could have had her father to take care of her, if she had let him. But we, Wade... We are two lone souls who have been orphaned by their dead fathers and their runaway mother and I don't care what you think, Wade!"

Ella shouted the last words, at the top of her voice, her hand balled into fists. She looked like a lioness, hurt, despite her rage.

Wade walked over to Ella, and stroked her head gently. "No, Ella, don't be resentful towards me. We have been together through so much together, Ella. I am not going to let us fall apart over anything or anyone. Not Cat, not Mother."

Ella threw her arms around Wade, sobbing in his embrace. Wade kept stroking her head, and after a long time, Ella's sobs subsided.

"Wade, I am sorry I shouted at you. I am not angry at you, you know." Ella's voice was muffled as she rested her head on Wade's shoulder.

"I know."

"I feel so, angry, and I don't think it's totally about Mother either. It's... just the way our life has turned out. I think it is unfair."

"Everybody doesn't get what they want, dear. But, we have to make use of what we have. We haven't had Mother for last seven years. After we moved here in Atlanta, I don't think we weren't so miserable either. We had accepted it."

"Yes, we had. It is just difficult knowing she made a choice. She had an option."

"We'll never know if she really did, Ella."

"You know what, I wish I could have that optimism of yours, Wade. You don't see anything wrong with people."

"I assure you I am no saint. I just know, that what is wrong to me, might seem right to someone else."

Ella smiled a little. "Taught a lot of philosophy in West Point, did they?"

"And I hated every class." Ella giggled and Wade pulled her apart to see her face.

"We'll talk about this later, let's go down for dinner. Mrs. Greene probably fell asleep at the table."

*********

Wade was pulling up his boots, when he heard a knock on the door. "Come in."

"Good morning." Ella was standing at the door, holding his breakfast tray.

"Oh, good morning. What happened to Mary? You didn't have to bring it."

"No, Mary is fine. I wanted to talk to you."

"It's okay. I thought it over last night. You don't have to go if you don't want to. I'll tell Mother something."

Ella tilted her head to a side, cringed her nose a little then broke into a smile. "I think I'll give Ireland a try." Then she seriously added. "But only on one condition"

Wade wondered what new challenge lie ahead. "What is it?"

"You will have to promise that I will still be your favorite sister, right?"

Wade was still laughing when he walked into his office to reply the mails.


	15. Chapter 15

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: Sorry, I have been away for more than a month now. It was no vacation for me either. (Exams!). But I am back, and am desperately hoping that I have not lost all my readers (fingers crossed). This is a short, kind of a transition chapter. I wrote it in bits over the whole month, and then rechecked finished it today. Please review, and, thank you so very much for reading 'Seven Years Later'.**

* * *

"Don't throw the bags like that!" Ella shouted as one of the crew flung her bag to another fellow up on the deck. The man looked abashed, and apologized as Wade clucked his tongue.

"Ella, when will you learn ladies are not supposed to shout at workmen? You might as well have uttered profanities!"

"Oh hush, Wade. They are too lazy to carry the bags to the deck! Someone had to say something."

Rhett laughed, as he thumped the already disconcerted man on the back. "Well, my man, now you better to carry that up very carefully." The man literally ran across the plank, clutching Ella's bag as if his life depended on it.

Ella tried to pull a serious face, only breaking off with a giggle. "That wasn't really necessary, Uncle Rhett. That fellow might have fainted."

Wade shriveled up his nose, as he heard Ella say 'Uncle Rhett', and walked away a little. He didn't like it, but once Ella decided something, there was no deterring her. Anne Hampton had asked Ella to call Rhett 'Uncle'. Wade failed to understand why Ella had to oblige. Wade also didn't understand why Rhett had to come to see them off at the dock.

Rhett and Ella were talking animatedly about Belfries of Bruges. Ella was reading out the list of places she wanted to see, again. She hardly looked at the notebook as she recited the names- she had literally memorized it over the past few weeks.

"Oh, you are going to Mystras, too?" Rhett seemed impressed and intrigued.

"Yes! I had to coax Wade a lot. It is going to be the tour of my dreams!" Ella could hardly contain her excitement.

"Make sure you visit Peribleptos and Pantanassa monitories."

"I will. Have you been there? Oh, wait, of course you have been."

"I have, but I wish I had been as enthusiastic as you are. It would have made slipping and stumbling over the old rocks so much more interesting."

"My ship is leaving in a few minutes, or else you would have regretted calling them 'old rocks'."

"Haha! Oh look, the boy is coming to ask you to board. All right then, see you two in a month and a half. Take care of yourself, Ella. Be with Wade all the time, and don't get lost."

"Oh, don't worry. I am sure Wade will be giving me lectures on safety thrice a day."

"Then listen to him, for a change." Rhett smiled as they walked over towards Wade, who was standing near the stairway.

Wade shook his hand, and they exchanged a few formal words.

"Well, Wade. Have fun on the trip." As Ella got on to the deck, and out of earshot, he added. "Let her indulge in seeing whatever she wants, Wade. But be careful in Berlin. You know about that rebellion."

"Yes, I know. I am thinking of bypassing Berlin. Let's see."

"Where is you first stop? England, I suppose."

"No." Wade looked away as he said, "It's Ireland." He hoped beyond hope, Rhett wouldn't suspect anything, but knowing Rhett Butler, it was hard to believe he wouldn't pick up a smell. That man has too strong instincts.

"What is the matter with you and Ireland?" Rhett's voice was almost reprimanding.

"Well, Ella insisted she should see my plantation." Wade mumbled the excuse, but Rhett's eyes looked sharply, so that Wade's excuse lost its credibility even to himself.

Someone blew a whistle on the ship's deck, to Wade's relief, and he scooted up the stairway. Once on the deck, the mere physical distance from Rhett relaxed him, though he was still unsure how Rhett took this little piece of information. But his worries were put to rest, when he saw him wave goodbye to Ella, with a genuine smile. No, he couldn't have suspected. Putting two and two together was one thing, but suspecting that they were going to Ireland to meet Scarlett was way beyond simple addition.

*****

Scarlett was pacing up and down the guestroom impatiently. She had been skittish all morning, scolding everyone in the house, and even asked Cat to go play by herself. Cat's feline eyes followed her mother, wondering aloud what the matter was.

Scarlett calmed her curiosity by saying, "I am excited that Wade is coming. And your elder sister is too." Cat nodded. Momma had told her about Ella, but she was still trying to imagine what she would be like. She hoped Ella would be like Wade.

Scarlett's tumult of thoughts was terminated when Mrs. Fitzpatrick entered the room and announced, "Mr. Hamilton is here." Scarlett flew across the room to the hallway, as Wade walked in.

"Hello Mother." he greeted her joyfully, and before Scarlett could return it, Cat squealed past her to the other end of the hallway, jumping into Wade's arms. Scarlett laughed, as Wade lifted her up on his hip and Cat started asking him about gifts.

Wade looked at Scarlett and called out, "Mother, come meet Ella."

Only Scarlett found it impossible to believe the beautiful lady standing he was motioning to, was Ella Kennedy.


	16. Chapter 16

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: Here goes the much anticipated chapter. I hope I have been able to handle the emotions justly. While I didn't want to overdo it, I tried to keep it genuine with less words and more expressions, because, as you can read into it, both the characters are very much affected by it all and there's not much scope for a wordy conversation in it. But, of course you are free to differ, just mention it in review. Thanks for reading SYL and reviews are, as always, welcome.**

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When Scarlett tucked Cat in, she didn't beg for a bedtime story. Scarlett kissed the top of her head and exhaled lightly. Cat had hardly sat down for one moment she was so busy running around showing Ella and Wade her pony and her beloved tower. Scarlett closed the door, keeping it slightly ajar, before she headed down the stairs.

She was feeling slightly nervous. She hadn't talked to Ella much throughout the day, because Cat kept them busy, and both she and Ella were clever enough to put off the 'talks' till Cat went to bed. Scarlett wondered what to expect.

Wade had gone to his room, and Ella was sitting alone in the withdrawing room, reading a book.

"Ella? Are you busy, dear?"

"Oh, Mother. No, please do come in."

Scarlett sat beside Ella on the couch and beamed at her for a moment, then shook her head and said, "Forgive me, I just can't believe you and Wade are both here. I mean, it has been so..."

"Strange?" Ella supplied.

"Yes, strange, of course. So how is life in Atlanta now?"

"Well, it's busy. It has changed a lot, since... since you left. Atlanta is... nice."

Ella was staring unseeing at the unflattering designs on the carpet. She looked as if she wanted to say something, but was fighting with herself to hold it back. Scarlett felt sore in the awkward stillness between them.

She tried to break the ice.

"I heard Beau is in University now."

"Yes, cousin Beau is doing well. He wants to follow up medicine but Uncle Ashley wants him to finish his studies quickly and come back to Atlanta to run his mill."

"Oh. Ashley is good, I suppose. And what about the Merriweathers, and Meades?"

"Maybelle Merriweather's son is in school, and she has a daughter too, but the old ones are no longer around."

Scarlett sat back in her couch, contemplating the old days- Maybelle Merriweather's wedding, Aunt Pitty's anxiousness, Old Mrs. Merriweather's resentment towards her 'boorish' behavior with Rhett... No she wouldn't start thinking about him. She had to talk to Ella.

"You know, when I first came to Ireland, I was just aware of Cat inside me. I was panicked and wanted to give her a safe home. So I toiled a whole year, worked like a peasant woman, never even having time to take so much as a peek at the mirror. But by the time Cat was about to be born, Ballyhara was somewhat on its feet. So, after she was born, I had all the time in the world to tend to her. When I nursed her, or saw her crawl on the bed, I remembered you and Wade. I wondered how you were growing up, what you were doing right then..."

Scarlett seemed to be lost in deep thought and she didn't realize she had stopped talking for a few moments. She was jerked out of her reverie by a ragged laugh.

Scarlett turned to see Ella, shaking with laughter, but there was not a trace of mirth in her outburst.

"What..."

"I am sorry. I just couldn't help, but be amused when you said you were _remembering_ us when you saw Cat."

"I... But what is so amusing about it?" Scarlett looked confused, and was pretty sure she was missing something.

"I don't know, but maybe, when one leaves one's children in hands of a sister who might as well take five kittens in the house than her niece and nephew, when one leaves her children to deal with the scandal she herself doesn't have the gumption to face, it just seems natural to assume that woman feels only as much compassion towards her children as a lion, perhaps, feels for its cubs, before throwing them out of the pride to fend for themselves."

"Ella, but I didn't mean to... it would have been harder.."

Ella raised an eyebrow, in mock humor. "Harder if you stayed back? For us? Apparently Wade hasn't told you anything, Mother." Scarlett flinched at the vile emphasis on the word.

She ventured, "What hasn't he told me?"

"Only that our life wasn't perfect, as you might imagine."

"I don't understand."

"You don't understand, or you don't want to?" Ella was aware of her voice rising, but she tried to control it. There seemed to be maids in every nook of this house. "We have been reduced to beggars at Aunt Sue's before Wade could move out. Wade had been made fun of for years at his school. Apart from a handful of old Atlantans, everyone looked down at us like rags. After Aunt Suellen drove us out when Uncle Will died, we would have probably slept on streets, if Grandaunt Pitty hadn't taken us in! But she did, not because of you Mother. But she remembered Aunt Melly. And Uncle Ashley helped Wade get his inheritance. No one forgave you Mother, and no one let us forget."

"I am sorry, Ella...I.."

"Sorry is not enough! Wade went to school, and I became Grandaunt Pitty's nursemaid. Yes, you never thought, what Ella could possibly want? It never occurred to you that I too, might want an education. Or was it, Mother, that you though I would become the belle of the county and spend my time fluttering eyelashes at boys?"

She paused, but didn't give Scarlett any opportunity.

"Everyone in Atlanta knows, that Scarlett O'Hara left money to send her children to good schools. Ha-ha! What a joke! Scarlett O'Hara left money to send her son to school, and her daughter to become an ailing old lady's caregiver. It was Wade, you see, who enrolled me in Cartersville School. He cut off his portion of inheritance to do that. He hadn't yet become the owner of ten plantations. But he scraped off again, as he has always done for me. And I think I know why. He did so because he is not like you. Through and through, he is a Hamilton. Not an O'Hara. For that, I am thankful to God. Because O'Haras only know what is best suited to themselves."

Scarlett was trying to make a sound, but couldn't find her voice.

"But you see, Mother. Being benign is not always an obstacle. I know I am in no position to give 'The O'Hara' advice, but it's merely an observation. Wade is antithesis to you. He is lenient, while you are ruthless. But look what position he has found for himself. Oh, and don't start worrying about us. We have been well off for some years now. We have learnt to take care of ourselves. I just hope you don't drown in your own guilt, or self-pity, whichever way your conscience tips off."

Scarlett sat petrified, her face ashen like stone. She was too shocked to cry, and her fingers trembled, as she tried in vain to say something. Ella's face was stoic, save the painful smile she had forced on her lips, her eyes burning with anger and sorrow constrained for years. After a few agonizing moments, Scarlett's breath found its way back into her lungs as a few alleviating tears escaped her eyes.

Scarlett closed her eyes and turned her head away, the tears now flowing. She was not bruised by Ella's words, but her pain lay in the truth of her accusations. For years, she had tried to hush the tiny little voice at the back of her mind, which always spoke of the same allegations. Now that someone else has enunciated her worst fears, she couldn't bear it and she breathed in short, silent gasps.

All the while through Scarlett's struggle Ella sat silently in her corner of the couch, emotions almost strangling her. She couldn't make out what she was feeling, but it was so strong, it singed her nerves, and her eyes stung with unshed tears. It was one of those ghastly feelings when anger and grief are so strong, they fuse together to form a monstrous grudge that bars a person's judgment from sorting out what is right and what is not. Just like that, Ella didn't know if it was right to blame her mother for all the shortcomings, but she only knew she had to say it, she had to let her know what the past years had meant to her and Wade. And when she saw how her words were crippling her mother, a hollow numbness took over her. She didn't know if hurling those objections at Scarlett was worth the pain she put her and herself into, and tears trailed down her cheeks.

She extended her hand a gently put it over Scarlett's, which was lying limply by her side. Scarlett looked up at her, her eyes clouded.

"Mother?" Ella spoke, between her sobs, " I am sorry. Please... forgive me... I.."

Scarlett gently put her finger over Ella's lips. "I know Ella. I had to hear the truth... I have been denying, and one cannot remain in denial forever. I know you think, I have never loved you or Wade, but I have. But love and courage are very different things. And I did not have the courage to face up to Atlanta after the divorce. I did not have the courage to face you, I felt so disgraced."

Ella's sobbed grew harder; Scarlett put her arms around her and held her close.

"I have always been afraid, Mother... I have been afraid that you went off somewhere... and were so happy, that you forgot us. Wade accepted it, so Wade could get over it. But I could never accept, and I always felt so angry... so sad that whatever happy place you had escaped to, you didn't want to take us."

They cried some more, until both of their tears were exhausted, and Ella rested her head snugly against Scarlett lap. Scarlett stroked her hair and they talked for a long time, confiding in each other what only a mother and her daughter can share. Ella's new school, how she and Wade had been taken care of by Atlantans, how Rhett was gradually becoming a part of their family, how Scarlett left for Grandpa Robillard's after leaving Charleston, how she met Daniel and all of her Irish cousins, her starting up Ballyhara again... the ladies opened up to each other and nothing was left unsaid between them anymore.

*****

Wade was the first one to get up, the next morning. He had to go to his Ballintober plantation to check the work going on. He silently dressed and gathered up his day bag, and tiptoed across the hall, careful to not wake anyone. While passing by the withdrawing room he saw embers glowing in the hearth, and wondered if the maids have forgotten to douse it.

As he was about to walk off, he almost dropped his bag.

Mother was sleeping on the couch, her head rested peacefully on the back, and Ella was curled up in her mother's lap, a nascent smile frozen on both their faces.


	17. Chapter 17

"So, how did Ella enjoy her Grand Tour?" asked Rhett, poring over some deeds at Wade's office.

Wade was bustling around the room, and didn't even turn towards Rhett when he answered "Well, I'd say she enjoyed herself because she practically kept running from one museum to another for the whole month."

Rhett chuckled. "A hectic month it must have been."

"For me, no doubt. She showed no sign of fatigue when we returned, but I couldn't do without sleeping on hours end."

"Europe_ is _intoxicating, for someone who is visiting for the first time. You must have felt the same way."

"Yes, I suppose I had."

"Well, I will treat myself to an European holiday next week. It has been few years, since I last saw Louvre."

"God, I would have to go to Broughton weekly again?"

"Don't be so hateful to that plantation, Wade. Tell me have you seen another one with so lush a patch? It is one of a kind."

"Only if you don't know better. How long this time?"

"I don't know, three weeks, a month maybe." Seeing Wade's eyes grow wide, he hastily added, "But it's not going to be more than that, I promise."

"Well, I have things to do too, you know, other than bossing over the pathetic staff at Broughton. I don't know why you wouldn't fire them. Such incompetence will serve no good to your beloved plantation."

"I know, I know. But you see, Broughton is their life too. They probably love it more than me. They have been working there since they could pick up a shovel in their hand!"

"Well, sympathize all you want, but don't blame me if Broughton doesn't do well. And why do you need a month to see Louvre anyway?"

"Well, it's not just Louvre. You see, the Charleston annual race is due next month. And, I want to put a really good horse on the course. An acquaintance had told me, the best thoroughbreds for flat races are found in Ireland. So, I want to make a trip to Ireland, and find myself the best runner in South Carolina."

Wade could feel his pulse quicken, but he was facing towards to cabinet, with his back towards Rhett. He hoped Rhett hadn't seen his back stiffen at the mention of his prospective trip to Ireland. But Rhett kept on talking.

"What a marvelous coincidence, the Drogheda Fair is about to begin in a week. The best horses are traded in the fair."

If Wade was shocked before, he was panicking now. He had heard Scarlett talk about buying horses at the Drogheda fair. And to make the situation worse, before he could gather up his thoughts, he stuttered out, "You can't go to Drogheda!" And then he bit hit tongue, wishing that could undo his words.

Rhett now sat upright in his chair. "What?"

"Er... Yes, you can't, I mean you shouldn't go to Drogheda, to buy horses, because..." Rhett raised one eyebrow quizzically, and that disoriented Wade further, which dissolved whatever rudiment of excuse he was trying to cook up.

Wade took a deep breath and mustered up all his energy. "Well, it's sad, because, just this other day, in Ballintober, two of the horses of the plantation died. I was worried, and the men said that a horse disease is spreading throughout Ireland. It is making the horse traders go berserk, because no one can identify it, and it's really contagious. In fact we had to get rid of four horses of the plantation, because they were showing the symptoms. And you don't want all the horses in America to get such a bad disease, do you?"

Wade was rambling, and both Wade and Rhett knew it. Wade waited for Rhett's answer.

After watching him, rather scrutinizing him for a minute, Rhett leaned back in his chair and stretched his feet out before him and smiled. From the way he bared his teeth, in obvious enjoyment, Wade understood that Rhett had the upper hand now and he was on a sinking ship.

"Sit down, Wade." Rhett's voice was serious, though the smile was still on his face.

Wade sighed and obeyed.

Rhett leaned forward and rested his elbows on the edge of the table. "So, Wade, do you have anything to tell me? Except reporting a case of colic epidemic among the horses of Ireland."

Wade steadied himself and looked straight into Rhett's eyes, and said "No"

Rhett was surprised by Wade's resolve, but he didn't back down. "Look, Wade. In the past year, we have become quite close, whether you like it, or not. And while I have no business giving you any advice, I do feel a little responsible towards you and Ella... let's say, for old time's sake. Now, you might choose to not tell me about some important developments in your life, and I respect that. But I also want you to know, that I do not mean ill to you or Ella. And let's face it, I have a wider experience than you, outside the plantation, so if anything is bothering you, who knows, I might even help you sort it out."

Wade was not going to give in to his concern; he had a much greater secret to protect. "You are building castles in the air, Mr. Butler. There hasn't been any 'important development' ".

"No don't protest, I know something has happened, and it has happened in that godforsaken country you keep running out to."

Wade became more casual now. Rhett was looking frustrated that Wade wasn't telling him. Maybe he wasn't going to Ireland at all; maybe he just wanted to rattle his cage to find out if something was going on. Yes, Wade could play this game.

"Well, suit yourself, Mr. Butler. I don't have any issues with you pleasing yourself with your active imagination. I just wanted to warn you."

Rhett stood up, and gathered his papers; his concerned attitude was now replaced by a business-like approach. "Well, Wade. Thank you for the warning, but I am going to Ireland this weekend. I will leave the papers of Broughton in my office, which you can take up when you are there. The phosphate mine contracts are going to expire during my leave, so you might renew them. But if you can manage three weeks without fertilizer, then wait till I return, I will renew them myself."

Wade stood up and shook his hand.

"Where will you be staying, in Ireland? Just in case, I have to contact?"

"You can wire or mail to address of Roswell Hotel. I will be staying in Galway."

Galway! That's just a few hours from Ballyhara, someone was screaming inside Wade's mind.

Wade stood at the window and saw Rhett's carriage vanish down the southern end of Clampton Street. He picked up his hat and got ready to go to the post office. He needed to send a telegram to Ballyhara, as soon as possible. But at the back of his mind, he had a nagging feeling that one can depend on Rhett Butler to find Scarlett O'Hara if he is in the same country, leave alone, the same county.


	18. Chapter 18

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: Scarlett and Ella reconciliation has been edited (Chapter 16). Please reread it, before you start on this one. Thank you and reviews are, as always, welcome.**

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Scarlett thought she would melt if it got any hotter. The heat was unbearable, but she was not going back to Ballyhara without buying a new horse. Her horse was giving good service, but she needed something with a spirit. Colum asked her to sit down by a tent.

"You have roved the fair twice already, Scarlett aroon." He shook his head solemnly. "I won't have you faint in the middle of the field. Sit down and have a drink." He extended a jug full of cold water.

Scarlett was going to protest, but her aching, sore feet involuntarily drove her to sit down on a musty barrel, and she took a swig of the water, feeling relieved.

"Now, I have to go and have a chat with Aidan. Don't you go roaming about before I come." With a peck on her cheek, Colum disappeared into the crowds.

Scarlett let a long, heavy sigh escape. The swooning heat was not keeping any trader or customer down. It was a busy sight, hands being spit on and slapped all around her.

The big chestnut tree formed a protective canopy over her head, shading her from the sun. It was an unusual day for the damp county of Louth, and it reminded Scarlett of Georgia.

The red dust flying about, everyone looking for a shade. Scarlett smiled- she would probably not like all that heat again, if a little Irish sun was driving her mad. But then, she didn't have to worry about Georgian summer. It's not like she would be there again. She would not go to Georgia. She would never see Tara again. Oh, Tara! A hundred Ballyhara cannot suffice Tara. The calm peaceful whitewashed house, in the middle of acres of cotton fields. Howling cries of Gerald, racing his horse over the fences, the hush whenever Ellen was around, the calls of the field hands, Mammy's reprimands... Scarlett heart cried. She missed all that. But what made her more homesick, was the fact that none of that existed anymore. Ellen and Gerald were gone. The field hands were gone. Mammy was gone.... Why does it suddenly seem everyone, except her, is gone?

She was staring past the people of the fair, as though, if she really tried to see past them, Tara would appear again, in the heart of Ireland. A beautiful crown filly was restlessly trotting about, neighing inside its small fence. Scarlett's heart went out to it. Poor creature, it just wants to be let free, it just wants to run. Can't they see that? Maybe I will buy it, once Colum comes, Scarlett thought, it does seem to be pretty spirited. Cat will love it too.

But a man, too heavily dressed for the day and too formally suited to be an Irish, came and stood beside the fence, and the filly seemed to get even more jittery. Scarlett was about to go after, but the man put a hand on the filly's neck, and it seemed to calm down. Then the man started patting its back, and it seemed he was talking to the horse. Scarlett sat slumped on the barrel, hoping the man was not going to buy it.

The trader came forward, visibly eager to seal the deal over the filly. It seemed he was trying to fix a price on the horse. Scarlett smiled; it looked like the trader was claiming an ungodly price. But the man did not seem deterred and spit on and slapped his hand twice on the trader's hand. Scarlett couldn't believe it- who closed a deal without bargaining? Who has that kind of money to actually heed the price the trader sets? Scarlett tried to see his face, but his back was turned towards her, and he was about to leave. Scarlett was almost sure, he was one of the men from Bart's parties.

Suddenly, the man turned around, and Scarlett was convinced the heat was causing her to hallucinate. But her breath was caught in a knot in her chest, and her heart pumped, what seemed a gallon of blood through her system all at once.

Rhett Butler had bought the filly.

Scarlett's first impulse was to run, with all her might, to him. To touch him, and assure that he was not a mirage, that he was real. To talk to him. But, then she realized, everything was not so easy anymore. She suddenly remembered the incidents that had set them apart, one sea apart. All of a sudden, the refuge of the shade did not seem safe enough. She had to run away, she had to hide from Rhett. She had to protect Cat. But maybe, it didn't matter if he knew where she was. Maybe, he was not looking for her and wouldn't care if he found her. Something cried inside Scarlett, but she somehow felt relieved. Rhett was talking to another man now, who looked as out-of-place in the country fair as him. Scarlett rose from the barrel, but her sore feet hadn't healed and she sat back down. Oh, how he still grins- that insolent, mocking grin. That grin which had driven her mad, which had reduced her troubles to nothing, above all, that grin which always reminded her of so many good, and not-so-good memories, all of which she held dear to her heart. He looked as handsome as ever, and save the few white strands on his temple, nothing had changed about him. Scarlett could swear, she looked different than she used to seven years ago. But that was Rhett Butler.

Rhett was now moving towards the exit of the fair. Scarlett bad goodbye silently, and hoped they wouldn't meet again. It was too close for comfort, and she stood up, resolved to go home as soon as possible.

*****

Mrs. Fitzpatrick was instructing the new maid when Scarlett burst in through the door. She looked flabbergasted by the way Scarlett rushed to Cat's room and coddled her. Scarlett was feeling safe again, in known territory, far away from Rhett Butler. But to be safe, she had to find out where he was, or why he was here.

She sat on the carpet, where Cat was assorting her board game. Mrs. Fitzpatrick knocked and came in.

"Mrs. O'Hara, a telegram came this morning, just a few minutes after you left. It is from Mr. Hamilton."

Scarlett felt alarmed, wondering what had happened and took the piece of paper.

RHETT BUTLER GOING TO IRELAND

STOP WILL BE AT DROGHEDA FAIR

STOP HE STAYS IN GALWAY STOP

TAKE CARE AND STAY AWAY STOP

But somewhere, deep inside, where one hides one's darkest secrets, she was wishing she would cross paths with Rhett again.


	19. Chapter 19

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: This chapter took some time, because I wasn't sure how to go about it, because it is difficult to write in Rhett's POV, because MM didn't shed much light on what goes on behind those smooth dark eyes. RBP helped me out, and again, I hope this Rhett isn't too un-Rhettish. If you have ideas of your own, please do post in in comments. Thank you, and please give some more reviews, I worked really hard on this chapter.**

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Rhett touched the tip of his hat, as Lady Brooke greeted him.

"Oh, how marvelous to have you join us in the hunt, Mr. Butler. John always goes on about how wonderful a shooter you are!"

"Well, that's John. But I am afraid I will not be able to join the hunt, Lady Brooke. I am feeling slightly under the weather. I prefer to take a ride across the countryside."

"I hope it is nothing too serious? Well, do enjoy your ride. I am afraid, we are going to miss seeing you give Lord Marshall a run for his money at the hunt. I heard you bought a fine little thoroughbred at Drogheda."

"So I did, and I have no intention of wearing it out in a hunt."

Someone called Lady Brooke, and she excused herself before setting off to the other room. Rhett looked around the room full of Lords and Ladies. They all seemed peaked about today's Hunt.

Rhett despised hunts. Somehow, he could not understand what crooked pleasure people derive from chasing down innocent animals, cornering them, the finally shooting them. And to top it all, they behead them to make grotesque memorabilia. Rhett felt some bile come up, when he saw Lord Marshall showing some techniques of skinning to John Morland, who didn't look much enthusiastic either.

Rhett called out to John, who looked relieved to leave the bloody conversation. "Hello, Rhett. I hope Galway is treating you fine."

"Yes, it is. But the countryside compares to nothing."

"Yes, I heard you are not going to join the hunt. So, we'll see you in the masquerade ball in the evening?"

"Oh, yes, I will be there. Though I do think, I am a little too old to be running around in masks, peeking into women's dance cards."

John laughed. "Well, I really wish you would join us in the hunt, we could have seen a real competition!"

"I hope you don't think I am the one to break it to Lord Marshall that he rides his horse like a stable boy, do you?"

John whooped in laughter. "Oh, ho-ho. No, I am not talking about Lord Marshall. I am talking about someone who could really make you taste the dirt."

"Who is that?"

"Only the most reckless woman I have ever seen."

"Good Lord, John, you are blushing." Rhett teased.

"Oh, sod your jokes, Rhett. She really is one of the best riders I have ever seen, and that is something, considering the amount of time I have spent with horses and riders. But don't worry you will meet her in the ball I suppose. She is also quite a delight to talk to."

"If you mean she has heaps of your British humor, then I doubt it."

"Firstly, I will have you know, that I haven't patented British humor, so _your_ British humor is quite a misnomer, and secondly, you Americans don't have the subtle taste that you need to appreciate it. Anyway, I'll be off, see you this evening."

Rhett laughed as he saw John leave, only to feel intrigued to meet this mystery rider he talked about.

Rhett was twiddling his mask, as he smoked on the balcony. The lawn was decorated with paper lamps, the tables were spread out, and a band was playing a Dvorak. Rhett hummed along wordlessly, and tried to distinguish the guests swarming in the lawns, hidden behind their masks, yet trying very hard to be recognized. He saw John Morland- no mask or attire can disguise his whooping laugh. From Rhett's vantage point, Clyde Rakewell looked like he was demonstrating delivery of a calf. Lady Sylvia looked engrossed, nevertheless.

His eyes moved to a quiet corner, where Charles Ragland was talking to a woman. The woman looked undisturbed, and surprisingly, not eager to be recognized. Her composure was calm, but there was a restlessness about her, which Rhett imagined only he understood. The woman seemed distracted, though young Charles looked determined to impress her. The woman now turned back, and a cascade of raven black hair tumbled down her back. Rhett gripped the back of a chair. He didn't even want to remember why he felt the rush.

He dropped his cigar in the ashtray, and briskly went down the steps, towards lawn. He knew he was just imagining things, but his blind urge to prove himself wrong drove him towards the lawn. He almost ran across the porch, his heart beating fast.

No one has that black hair. No one can look so distracted. No one can jump start his heart, like it were dead all this time. No one but her.

When Charles saw Rhett walking towards them, he excused himself from his company, and came with a surprised smile to greet him.

"Good evening Major Ragland. I heard you did wonderfully in the Hunt. Congratulations."

"Ah, but you are not supposed to recognize me, or at least, not say that you recognize me." Charles laughed." So what brings you to Ireland, Mr. Butler?"

Rhett was trying hard to not shove Charles out of his way and go over to her. But he smiled. "I just came for a change of weather and to buy a few horses."

"Well, do enjoy the party. I will go and have a chat with Rakewell, Lady Sylvia looks like she needs rescuing. I will see you later."

Rhett gave a nod, and Charles had barely stepped away, before he walked fast towards her, as fast and as inconspicuously as he could.

She was standing with a dance card in her hand, looking as distant as ever. The sequined green mask made her eyes look more feline. Rhett didn't know what to say. He just wanted to stand there and watch her, and let no one disturb them.

But he wanted to talk to her, just the same. He wanted to hear her voice again.

He walked closer to her, but it seemed to take an eternity, as if he was walking under water. Yet he could not find his voice. A sudden gust of wind blew her hair away from the careful coiffure, and she turned his way, to gather up her locks. And their eyes met.

It didn't even occur to Rhett, that there might be a mistake- that she was not who he thought she was.

For Rhett, it was like waking up from long, deep sleep. With his gaze locked into hers, he swam towards the upper layers of the sleep. He was suddenly becoming aware of himself, of a person inside his body after a long time. Rhett Butler, always quick to the word, couldn't utter a syllable to the love of his life.

But it _was_ him who spoke first.

"Scarlett." Rhett said the name almost as if not believing himself. He extended his hand, and softly touched her cheek. Scarlett let out a small cry, and Rhett's heart jumpstarted again. How many years has it been? How many years since he had seen her? How many years since he had touched her?

"Why Scarlett?" Rhett didn't know what answer he wanted. But he wanted to know. He wanted to know something… anything that could justify all of it.

Rhett looked over Scarlett's shoulder, grabbed her arm and led her towards a table, where a waiter was lazing, and guiltily sipping from a bottle of the Brookes' cellar's best specimen. Seeing Rhett and Scarlett, he hurriedly left, almost knocking the candles off. Scarlett sat down, Rhett still felt dazed.

Finally he sat down opposite to her, and tried to frame the next question, but he kept getting lost in Scarlett's eyes. He put out his arm and pulled her mask off. His touch made Scarlett shiver visibly, and Rhett felt a chill himself.

"What happened, Scarlett? Where were you all these years?" Rhett breathed the words as he took Scarlett's hand, and gently rubbed his thumb on the ivory skin.

Scarlett closed her eyes and took a deep breath. When she looked up, her eyes were stone cold.

"Please leave me Rhett. I do not want you in my life, in any part. Not after so many years, not now. Please let me be."

Rhett tightly squeezed Scarlett's hand. No, this couldn't be happening. "What are you saying, Scarlett?" He desperately tried to look into her eyes, but she dodged his glance, and unsteadily stood up, writhing her hand free off him.

Rhett followed her, and grabbed her by the waist, but then suddenly released when he realized Scarlett was crying. Was he so undesirable to her? When Rhett let go of her, Scarlett almost collapsed on the ground, but she swaggered and then arched her back to stand up straight,as if summoning all of her strength in the stiff posture.

"Goodbye Rhett. I am sorry."

Scarlett stumbled, and ran away from the table, and vanished into the crowd of people in the lawn. Rhett tried to run after her, but his feet seemed to be made of lead, and were planted in the ground, and Rhett couldn't get in touch with his senses. He couldn't hear anything, except the beating of his own heart, which was slowing down again. It felt like an eerie silence was pressing hard against him. Everyone around was busy in merriment, as if nothing had gone wrong. But in Rhett Butler's world, everything that could go wrong had already gone wrong, and today the last straw was drawn. He would no longer be able convince himself of the illusion, that somewhere Scarlett was thinking of him, waiting for him, that one day this mammoth misunderstanding would be cleared up.

Long ago, very long ago, on a boat on the River Chattooga, Rhett had promised himself, he would never let anyone's apathy make him feel weak. He was weak tonight. Weaker than he had ever felt. Too weak to stand there and feel himself drown deeper into that dark, lonely crevice where no one could console him. He felt as stranded as a traveler, who just found out his last hope of life, was a mirage.


	20. Chapter 20

Scarlett woke with a start. At first she couldn't remember, why she was lying on her stomach on the bed, with rouge caked on her cheek with tears. Then it all came back to her.

She dragged herself off the bed, and went to the mirror. Her face was blotchy and her eyes were bloodshot. The chime of the clock told her it was midnight. The party was still going on down at the lawn, and Scarlett could hear the happy voices. She blew out the candles, and sat on the edge of the bed, in the dark. The sheer curtains were fluttering in the wind, and its shadows were playing across the wall in front of Scarlett.

Scarlett felt heavy, but she couldn't relieve herself by crying- her eyes were dry and she was confused why she felt so sad. This is what I wanted, didn't I? Scarlett thought. I did not want to meet Rhett, at first place. Then why am I so sad that I have asked him to stay away from me?

Scarlett could not find a reason. But that was Scarlett. She seldom found any. But maybe, she did not need to find a reason. She would just pretend as if nothing had happened, and trust Rhett to do the same. She would go back to Ballyhara tomorrow. She couldn't stay here anymore. She had already said she was feeling unwell, when she retired early in the evening. She would go back to Cat. She would probably jeopardize revealing about Cat if she ran into Rhett again. Another fear dawned in her- most of the guests here knew about her daughter! What if someone told Rhett about Cat? Would he think she might be his daughter? But then again, Rhett wouldn't imagine Cat could be conceived on that fateful night. And they hadn't even shared a room for almost a year before. No, Rhett wouldn't suspect that.

Scarlett walked over to the balcony; the cool breeze induced some calm in her. She yawned, and made for the bed again.

Even she was oblivious to how her own eyes scoured the lawn for the last time, searching for someone.

*****

Scarlett waited for her carriage, to take her to the Dublin station. It was a colder morning than the previous one, and only Lady Brooke had been there to see her off. But Scarlett couldn't take her clucking for long, and suggested she better not wait with her, in case she caught a cold. A carriage came up the road, and Scarlett asked the butler heave the bags in. Scarlett was about to board the carriage, when someone caught her hand from behind.

Scarlett turned and did a double take. It was Rhett, all dressed up in traveling clothes, his day bag by his side.

"Good morning, Scarlett. I didn't wish to run into you again, but I hope you are not leaving on my account." His voice was cool, devoid of the condensed emotions he had showed last night. His old, sure self made Scarlett wonder if she had imagined them herself.

"No, I... I was just going... I have something to take care off." She finished, unsure of how much she should reveal.

"Don't worry about me ruining your image, Scarlett. I know better than to claim to be the ex-husband of a widow. Yes, I know. Well, some of it, at least. And I am sure I am not interested in the rest."

Scarlett felt a surge of relief, and her cheeks almost colored. Rhett didn't seem to notice.

"Scarlett, I wish you a happy life ahead. And don't worry about me, I doubt if we will meet again. I am going back to America today." He paused, and looked her up and down. Scarlett reminded herself not to blush.

"Well, goodbye Scarlett. Take care of yourself." He tipped his hat, and walked away from her, down the cobbled path. As he went out of sight, Scarlett whispered, "Goodbye, darling."

Scarlett blessed her knees for not giving in before she sat down in the plush carriage seat.

*****

Scarlett was sitting in her study, ledger on her lap. Frowns creased her forehead, as she read the evening newspaper again. Three Fenians were arrested by the British soldiers for carrying out seditions. Two of them worked at the Ballyhara. Scarlett knew the soldiers were going to come and ask all kinds of questions. She felt angry with Colum. He had promised he would keep the Fenians under control and not bring in any tussle with the soldiers into Ballyhara. She picked up a paper and a pen. She wrote down two letters- one to Charles Ragland, trying to pacify the situation, another to Wade. She wanted to see Wade, and also wrote about her meeting with Rhett.

Someone knocked at the door, and Scarlett stowed the letters inside the ledger, and called out, "Come in."

It was Colum who came in. "Good evening, Scarlett darling. How was the party?" He swayed a little and then supported himself against the bookcase.

Scarlett was appalled. "Colum O'Hara! How dare you come in here drunk like that?"

Colum laughed. He almost toppled over laughing. Scarlett ran to him, and sat him down on the chair. She gave him a glass of water, and he drank it greedily.

"Colum, what happened? I have never seen you like this. Is it the arrests?"

Colum stared ahead. "Arrests? No. No-no. The arrests! Our whole dreams are about to be ground to dust. Three arrests don't matter anymore."

"Drink some more water, Colum. Now tell me, what happened."

Colum drank another glass, and waited silently for minutes. Scarlett didn't probe him; she just held his shaking hands.

It was quite dark in the room, but Colum's eyes glistened in the little light left.

"They have found the arms in the church, Scarlett. They are taking away all those weapons we have collected for years, with money we earned from life-drawing hard work. We sacrificed our lives to see our land free off them. To see our dream come true." He suddenly turned towards her. His eyes frantic, like that of a lunatic. "That dream is dying, Scarlett! Our dream will be stillborn, it will be murdered in the womb it was nurtured in."

Scarlett stroked his hair, trying to soothe him. "Maybe all is not lost, Colum. You can build it once more. This time you will be more cautious."

Colum retreated back into his chair. "No, Scarlett. There will not be another time. These arrests are the first of the impending thousands that'll be made in the next few months."

"What are you saying? What do you mean, Colum?" Scarlett tried hard to not sound panicked. But she couldn't help.

"I am saying, Scarlett, that in a few months half of Ireland's population will be razed to ground. Every Fenian, and his connections will be hanged at the gallows. There won't be enough place to bury the dead."

Scarlett felt nauseous. Almost every Irish man she knew had connection with the Fenians. All of her cousins were Fenians. Her American cousins had connections with the Fenians too. And all of her Ballyhara staff were Fenians! Suddenly Scarlett felt scared. Why, she was a Fenian too! She was the Fenian leader's cousin! What if they sentence her? What on earth would happen? And Cat...! No, she wouldn't let anything come near Cat.

Suddenly, all of her strength seem to return. Scarlett jumped up and pulled the letter to Wade out of the ledger and stormed out of the room, leaving Colum to brood over himself. She would post it right away.

For better or for worse, she couldn't let Cat stay in Ireland anymore. She would ask for Wade's help to keep Cat safe. They would figure something out, together.


	21. Chapter 21

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: Sorry for being late again, but I had a writer's block. Seriously, I got totally derailed about how to go about this story. But, anyway, back on track, and working on the next chapter right now. And, also I would really like to know if you have any ideas about this story, because of late, I have had very few reviews per chapter, and I was wondering what has gone so wrong with the story. So, ideas, comments anything- just post in the reviews. Thanks :)**

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Wade nervously rapped the edge of his desk, his attention far from the papers he was trying to read. His mind kept shifting back to Scarlett's letter. The Fenians, the Irish revolt- Mother and Cat may be in danger, if not today then anytime soon. But his immediate pressing concern was that Rhett knew. He wondered what to expect, as he waited for Rhett to come, to sign some papers for Broughton.

Almost as if answering his thoughts, there was a brisk knock on the door. Wade cleared his throat and asked the caller to come in. When Rhett walked in, his face was like a clean slate, from which Wade couldn't read anything.

"Good morning" Wade spoke, a little unsure.

"Good Morning, Wade." Rhett said, sounding a tad tired. "Did you draw up the papers?"

"Uh.. ye-yes." Wade handed him a sheaf of papers. "You have to put a sign at the bottom of each page."

Wade twiddled with his own pen as Rhett casually signed the papers. Wade could clearly feel the resentment, but he was not particularly sure why it was bothering him. For one thing, it would probably put a stop to Rhett's interference in his life, which was what he had wanted from the start. Yet, he felt a little shifty. Nevertheless, he was not going to start a conversation where there was none. As Rhett got to the bottom of the pile, Wade spoke up, "I... won't be able to visit Broughton next three weeks or so. But I will go later this week to give the instructions and everything to the staff... Besides, it is almost end of May, so there isn't much to do about at the plantation, except for regular watering and... " He trailed off, realizing he had run out of excuses to talk.

But Rhett did not respond, and was going over the last document, unperturbed. Wade thought he had not listened. He cleared his throat again, and started to speak. "Mr. Butler, I was saying..."

"I heard what you said." Rhett's voice was domineering. "Don't try to start conversations, Wade. You are mighty lousy at it."

Wade felt a tingling sensation in his cheek, and hoped he was not blushing.

Rhett signed the last document and set it down. Wade wondered if he was going to make any comment, as he always did. However, Rhett stood up, and gave him a curt nod, and made towards the door.

Wade sighed and thought sourly if this was their first encounter after the revelation, how awkward things would get in time.

But with his handle on the door, Rhett paused for a moment, then turned back.

"Don't go so hard on yourself, boy." Rhett's voice was not rough, but Wade still felt like he was being chided.

"I.. I am not sure what you are talking about." Even so, he was unable to make eye contact with Rhett.

"You understand very well what I am talking about!" Rhett's voice was rising, and he checked himself. "I just want to say that I don't blame you. It is in your nature to do what you are told, and that is exactly what you did."

Wade did not know if the words were intended that way or not, but they sounded like dimes thrown at a beggar- alms covered in pity. Suddenly, a hot anger shot through Wade.

"Well, what I do or I don't is my personal matter and none of your business."

Rhett smiled, that callous, self-assured smile that Wade wanted to knock out of his face.

"Of course, of course. In O'Hara family it never occurs to anyone that certain things they guard so jealously as their _personal matter _might be of some concern to others too."

Wade stood up. "Please don't start with that, Mr. Butler. I am sure I could point a few personal businesses you have carried out, which might have concerned others. Or shaken would be a better word."

Rhett stood straight, but it was inevitable that it would come to this, and they could no longer keep running around in loops around the invisible topic of their confrontation.

"Since when did you know?" Rhett's voice was demanding. But Wade was not giving in, today he was someone else.

"Why does that concern you?"

"Since when did you know?" Rhett's voice was getting stronger.

Wade's nostrils flared, but he did not answer. He was not going to tell him- he had sworn to his mother. It didn't matter how much he knew, he was not going to enlighten him further. Besides, it was strangely satisfying to see, for once, Rhett Butler was begging someone to know something, though his attitude was still that arrogant. To see him come off the high horse. To see him lose his temper, and tear off that mask of composure.

"What do you hold against me, Wade? Tell me seriously." Rhett's tone was negotiating.

"I think that is quite a foolish question to ask, for someone like you."

"I know it is natural for you to think the way you do, Wade. But…there are two sides of a coin."

"Look, Mr. Butler, you are wasting you time and mine, asking all this. I am not going to feed you any more information of Mother."

They stared at each other for a few moments. Then Rhett shook his head, dejectedly.

"All I want is a chance to put things back the way they were."

The corners of Wade's mouth curled up in a vicious smile. "As far as I can remember, Mr. Butler, you were never the one to patiently pick up broken fragments and glue them together. That is what you said, didn't you?" Wade's eyes twinkled menacingly- the table had turned, it was his turn to be mean.

Rhett seemed transported back to the night he had uttered these words. "You..."

"How can the children forget the very words which wrung the life out of their mother, Mr. Butler? The very words that ripped their lives apart?"

Rhett just looked on, without saying anything.

"What amazes me, Mr. Butler, is that you are not sorry. At least, you are not sorry that it had wrecked our lives. You are just sorry that, for once, you cannot pounce on something you want right away. But, you know something, Mr. Butler? The only one you should feel sorry about is you."

"Oh, that I do, Wade. That I do." Rhett's said, ruefully.

"Well, all the better for you. God knows, you have caused misery to many people. Any man worth his salt would be drowned in self-pity, if he were you. But you won't, Mr. Butler, you won't. People who cannot see beyond the distinct perimeter of their own interest, very seldom do."

Rhett's face broke into a sad smile. "Yes, you are quite right, Wade. I am one of those blackguards, who only seek to fulfill their own needs. The only problem is, that this blackguard did a very hateful sin. This blackguard fell in love. Love in all colors of jealousy, spite, dishonor... you name it. Only this blackguard has lost so much, he no longer belongs anywhere. He is like the reformed criminal who jumps at the slightest opportunity to prove that he is a changed man- only no one believes him."

Rhett and Wade's gaze locked together. Rhett's glance was full of remorse; Wade's was seething with bitter satisfaction of revenge.

Wade finally spoke through his gritted teeth. "You are a closed chapter of our lives, Mr. Butler. Water under the bridge. I do not care enough to hold anything against you. As my mother might have mentioned, it is quite unnecessary for you to come and reopen another painful era in our lives. If that is all, then I would rather you left."

When Rhett left the room, Wade slumped back in his chair, and hid his face in his hands. He had never felt so shamed at his behavior, yet somehow he had also never felt so liberated before.


	22. Chapter 22

"What is the matter, Wade?" Ella's voice was wary.

But Wade didn't seem to hear her, and kept shoving his food around the plate.

Ella gently touched Wade's arm, and Wade seemed to pull out of deep thought.

"What is the matter?"

"Uh.. nothing. Why do you ask?"

"Because I asked this question twice before you answered."

Wade sighed and dropped his fork on the plate. He looked pensive as he stretched his legs in front of him and settled back in the chair.

"I had a confrontation."

Ella raised an eyebrow. "You and a confrontation? That's a little difficult to believe, but do go on. Whom did you shout at- Ernie or Steve?"

"Rhett Butler."

Ella sat silently for sometime, until Wade turned to her, with a quizzical look, prodding her to make a comment.

Ella shrugged. "Well, it's good to know that you finally got it off your chest."

"That's all you can say? I feel awful!"

"Why? Oh come on Wade, when will you accept it is _not_ a crime to get mad at someone?"

"I.. it's not.." Wade struggled to frame his thoughts, but gave up. "I just don't like being mad and then repenting the outburst for hours!" He concluded with a sweep of his hand.

Ella patted Wade's hand. "I took my anger out at Mother, and you did it with Uncle Rhett. We are even."

"No, we're not. Mother is our... well, mother. But I am afraid.. You know, I just wanted to keep him away. I thought if I just tell him off, I'd make it clear he is not wanted. That he does not matter anymore. But I think I just showed him he does make a difference. And that's enough to keep him going. I'm afraid instead of driving away, I just motivated him."

"Wade, you are reading too much into it."

"I hope I am."

They sat silently for some time, before Ella spoke again.

"Wade, Uncle Rhett knows where Mother is. So, why are you so intent on keeping them apart?" It was more a question to herself, than to Wade.

Wade looked at her, unblinking and incredulous. "What?"

"I mean, not just you. Mother too. Why _does_ she want to be, you know, away from him?"

"Divorce, remarriage- ring a bell? I can't believe you are even asking this!"

"I know, I know. But none of them is happy. Don't you want us to be a family and not just this broken pieces of one? Besides, Mother might have to leave Ireland anyway, because of that revolt. It is this uncomfortable when they are in two different continents, just imagine how things would get if she comes back to America. And when she does, Uncle Rhett would definitely find out about Cat. "

Wade was about to make a good reply, but he paused. Ella did have a point. But he shook his head and said, "Well, it's not our decision."

"Yes, that's right. And left to themselves they will never come together."

"Hmm."

"If only..." Ella trailed off, thinking to herself, a strange light in her eyes.

Wade narrowed his eyes. "Don't go worrying about them, they can take care of themselves perfectly well. Now finish your dinner, and come help me pack. I will leave tomorrow for Copper Crust."

* * *

Rhett opened his eyes so suddenly that the light stung, and he squinted. As he tried to adjust his vision to the brightness, he couldn't identify the tapestry hanging on the wall in front of him. Then he slowly and vaguely remembered coming to the Charleston sporting house last night, and absolutely knocking himself out with drink after drink. He made an effort to sit up, but as he did, it felt like he had bumped straight into an invisible wall, and he fell back into the bed again. He groaned as he looked down on the floor; he couldn't remember exactly how much of alcohol he had had last night, but the number of bottles lying around gave him some idea. He was still feeling groggy and his eyes were watering from the throbbing ache inside his head. He tried to call out for someone, before realizing he couldn't shout without making his head burst in pain. He tried to breathe deep and reached out for a glass of water on the bedside table.

Rhett sighed and wondered how he ended up like this. When he was a young man, he wanted to be the dangerous brigand who created a stir wherever he went and laughed at the face of family life. But here he was, wishing the same. How ironic life is!

Rhett was tired. Rhett was tired of asking himself the same question over and over again. He was tired of judging himself, of punishing himself. He was tired of fighting with fate. But somehow, whenever he would feel like giving up, Scarlett's face would float in his mind, and he would realize he just couldn't. Sometimes Rhett wondered how much strength could a man have? How much strength so that he could hopelessly love someone who did not reciprocate it and marry her, lose a daughter he loved more than life itself, divorce his wife when she finally confesses her love, marry someone out of sheer spite, lose an unborn child and still, miraculously, crave for his lost love? Sometimes he felt like laughing at himself, because, of all the people he had jeered at in his life, he was more miserable than all of them together.

A girl, hardly seventeen entered the room, and brought a tray of food. Rhett tried to dismiss her by waving his hand; the last thing he wanted now was food. But the girl set the tray down on the bedside table and said, "Madame Fleur has strict orders. Everyone should have their breakfast by ten in the morning."

"Is that so?" Rhett said, carelessly. "Is it nine already?"

"Yes, sir."

"Well, would you tell someone to arrange for a cab? I don't think I brought my horse."

"Yes, sir."

"Thank you." Rhett felt nauseated looking at the food.

Rhett walked out of the sporting house, looking for his cab, when he saw Resnick, his stable boy standing on the pavement, looking as fidgety as a new horse. He called out to him.

Resnick looked flustered, as he ran across the street and cast a terse glance towards the door of the sporting house.

"Good morning, sir. I came to call you, but the guard... would not..." He nodded his head towards a burly man standing a few feet away.

"Why did you need to call me?"

"A lady came this morning, and said it's important that she meet you."

"A lady...?"

"A young lady sir. Says she is Miss Ella Kennedy."

Rhett was not sure what to expect, but he braced himself for a surprise, as he stepped into his carriage.


	23. Chapter 23

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: A little lengthy, this one. But still hope you can enjoy it. Thanks for reading. Would love to get feedback and reviews.**

**P.S: The last part has been edited. Thanks to BlaqueCat3, iris fibonacci and refugee2010 for pointing out inconsistencies throughout the story. I really appreciate your help!**

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Rhett walked towards the guestroom, his tread light and swift. Ella was standing with her back towards him. She was staring out of the window, at the deep blue sky that merged unceremoniously into the Charleston harbor. The bright sunlight reflected off her red hair, making her look almost luminescent.

He coughed.

Ella turned around, and smiled, almost childishly. "Good morning, Uncle Rhett."

"Good morning." The words sounded colder than he had intended. Ella's face fell a bit and Rhett bit into his tongue. He made a sweeping gesture with his hand, motioning Ella to sit on the couch, while he sat himself opposite to her.

"I hope Manigo saw to your refreshments?" Rhett did not know why, but his voice sounded impersonally formal.

"Uh- yes. Yes, but I insisted otherwise. You see, I came to visit my cousins here."

Rhett merely nodded.

"Is there something you want to tell me?"

"Yes, I do." Ella sat silently, as if reciting what she would say next, in her mind. Then she closed her eyes, reopened them and took a deep breath.

"I wanted to say I am sorry because I did not... we did not tell you about Mother." She looked into Rhett's eyes, as if trying to assess his reaction. He showed none.

"I think it is feasible that you are angry at us, but as Wade says, it's not our decision."

"He gave me a clear idea yesterday."

Ella smiled. "Yes, and he is plunging in shame for his outburst. And though he probably will apologize himself, later on, I will not apologize for Wade. I just hope you did not misread him."

Rhett smiled, and then his smile got broader, until he broke into a laugh.

"That boy is too refined to be part-Irish. And you say he is ashamed?"

"As if he had killed a puppy."

Rhett laughed again. "I would have liked if he had had it over on the first day. It certainly does better than keeping it bottled up."

"Try telling him that."

Rhett chuckled. They lapsed comfortably into a silence, and Rhett's mind wandered off to his trip to Ireland again.

"She would have turned twelve this year, right?"

Ella had risen from the couch and was standing in front of the bookcase. On top of the bookcase, there was a daguerreotype of Bonnie. Rhett thought with astonishment that it had been quite some time since he had looked at it. He wondered when he had silently broken his habit of looking at it at least once a day.

"Yes, twelve years..." He said and silently went to stand beside Ella. His little girl looked as happy as a lark, clutching her kitten in her small hands. He remembered how happy she had been the day the daguerreotype was taken. She had been so excited she constantly brushed Napoleon, the cat as many as eighteen times.

"She was a brave little girl." Ella said, the photograph still in her hand.

"Yes, my Bonnie was a brave little angel. I have never seen someone so sure of herself, and that too when she was so young." Rhett's words were quiet, but not devoid of a fatherly pride.

"I often wonder how she got on." Rhett asked the windowpane in front of him.

Ella's breath caught in her throat, and she wondered if he would demand an answer from her.

But Rhett did not pause for an answer, and continued to himself. "How could she just bury it away like nothing happened, and… and make a life for herself. Why couldn't I?" Rhett fell silent.

After almost a minute of silence, he spoke again, "Maybe I couldn't come back to life because…" He swallowed hard, trying to stabilize his voice which was cracking. "Because I was the one who destroyed in first place. Maybe if I hadn't bought her the pony, if I had stopped her… if I had tried to make things better after... And I didn't let Scarlett make things better. I didn't give her… us a chance."

Ella was trying to stem her own tears. The contorted look on Rhett's face wasn't helping, so she turned away.

Ella couldn't understand why he and Scarlett were doing the same mistake again. She knew, no matter what Mother told, she was not happy. Then why was she insisting on keeping this up, hurting each other more? Ella wondered if Scarlett's fears were justified. Was Rhett really so heartless that he would take Cat away from her if he knew about her?

"Uncle Rhett, would you ever take a child away from her mother?" The words tumbled out of Ella's mouth, even before she had thought it through, or could stop. Her mind drew a blank when Rhett turned towards her, his brows knit together in confusion.

"What did you just say?" Rhett asked.

But Ella could not come up with any answer. Slowly apprehension dawned in Rhett's face, and he asked, incredulously, "My... child?"

Ella pursed her lips and nodded.

Rhett boomed. "How could you not tell me that..."

But before he could finish his question, Ella stumbled backwards and out of the room. She ran to her carriage and shouted at a very perplexed driver to hurry. She turned back and saw Rhett standing on the steps of his house, looking as though thunder had struck him.

Ella shivered once, and shook her head. Uncle Rhett would never back away. Maybe Mother would never forgive her. Maybe Wade would never forgive her. Was it still a risk worth taking? Ella had never shirked from doing something she thought was right, even if that meant doing something she would be inevitably blamed for. But today she was scared... she was very scared.

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×°"˜`"°º×GWTW×º°"˜`"°º×

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Rhett sat on the floor of his study, a bottle of strong liquor in his hands. His hair was disheveled and he looked messy. Hell, he felt messy. But he didn't care. He couldn't believe Ella's last uttered question. Could Scarlett really have hidden that? Didn't she know she could probably save him from the hell he had been imprisoned in for seven years! How dare she? A sudden anger rushed through his body hotly and he threw down his bottle. It shattered into a hundred pieces. He gritted his teeth together and tried to suppress his feelings. He felt angry and sad and all of it was just physically hurting him.

He heard his door being unlatched, and thinking it might be one of the servants bringing in lunch, he growled. "Don't disturb me now."

"Are you busy, Rhett?" Rosemary's wary tone startled Rhett.

Rhett turned around, and Rosemary gasped when she saw his bloodshot eyes.

"What happened, brother?" Rosemary came quickly to her brother's side, but Rhett shove his hand, gesturing her to go away.

Rosemary sat down on the couch Rhett was leaning against. She gently stroked his head, and softly asked, "Won't you tell me, Rhett?"

Rhett leaned his head against Rosemary's knees, and let a tear escape. Though Rosemary was calm, she did not ask anything more.

"Rosemary, Scarlett has a child. Scarlett has my child."

Rosemary's fingers froze on Rhett's head. "What?"

Rhett reiterated what Ella had told him. Rosemary was petrified on the couch, while Rhett sat limp on the floor.

"What are you going to do, Rhett?" Rosemary's voice was cautious.

"What is there to do, Rosemary? Scarlett doesn't want me to know about my own child! God, now I know why she hates me so much. She thinks, apparently, I would take away our child from her. Is that what she thinks I am? A monster?"

Rosemary did not reply, but sat alert.

"I can't believe she did not tell me she was going to have a baby. You know how angry I was when she left. All that time she was here, even when I had ignored her, I had hoped that she would break my resolve, that she would not give up on me. But she did, and maybe she was right to do so. But not tell me about my own child? It's beastly!"

Again a silence fell, and again it was Rhett who broke it. "Why didn't she come to me when she learned of it? I was an astronomical fool to divorce her, but she did not even tell me where she had gone. She did not bother to let me know where she was, how she was. She chose to get rid of me from her life. I wanted to hurt her so bad. I had divorced her and hoped that she would come back and throw it back at my face. But she did not come, and I knew then, she had written me off." Rhett's words were now a rant, and Rosemary tangibly felt his pain. She had never seen his brother so afflicted. Her mind flew back to the little note Scarlett had left her. All these years, Rosemary had never regretted burning it. Today, seeing her brother's drooping shoulders, Rosemary realized she had never understood her brother, or Scarlett, or their love. They were two of a kind, and they were meant to be with each other. Today, she would have to come clean.

Rosemary silently prayed that Rhett would forgive him. "I have to tell you something, Rhett."

Though Rhett was still slack, he shifted his position to face her, intrigued by the seriousness of her tone.

"Scarlett _had_ left a note before leaving. It was after you had left for Dunmore. She said you would explain everything and that she was going to her aunts."

The color drained from Rhett's face. He suddenly jumped up and caught Rosemary's wrists in his own hands.

"What have you done?" His voice was gruff and his fingers dug into Rosemary's wrists painfully. She tried to wrench herself free, but Rhett's fists had an iron hold over them. "How could you do that to me?" he bellowed.

Rosemary's wrists were numb and for a moment she thought he would strangle her.

"I had thought that she was only trouble for you. But I didn't know better. You must understand Rhett, I only meant well." she said meekly.

Rhett stared at her, his eyes two cold slits. Rosemary was scared to look at him. But as suddenly as he had caught her, he released her hands and turned away from her.

Then he lowered his head, into his hands and his body shook as he wept. Rosemary felt like reaching out to him, but she was not sure. Finally when Rhett's body went still, Rosemary spoke in a broken voice.

"Go get her, Rhett."

When Rhett lifted his face up too meet her in the eye, she knew he would.


	24. Chapter 24

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: This one has a lot put in one chapter. Thanks to the reviewers again. Enjoy!**

* * *

Wade picked up a newspaper and scanned every page for any sign of the mutiny. He was relieved when he found none. It might have been just a rumor, he thought. But something, at the back of his mind, did not let him be at rest. He knew he had to be in Ireland, and fast. He was waiting in the lobby of the Charleston hotel for his breakfast. His ship was going to leave in the evening, which would give him plenty of time to have a good sleep. The last few days had been very busy, with him bouncing from one plantation to another giving instruction for a month. Truth to be told, he did not have any idea how long it would take him to come back, and he did not want to take any chance as far as business was concerned. He did feel relieved that Ella was going to stay with her friend, Petunia Halls, though. She didn't look very happy when he went to saw her off at the Halls' last day, Wade contemplated. But that was probably because she was worried about Mother and Cat.

Wade had barely taken a bite off his heavily-buttered toast when a bell-boy came and politely said, "You have a letter, sir."

Wade wondered who it could be as he took the letter, because very few knew where he was exactly at the moment. The name on the envelope shocked him a little. What could possibly Ella want to say in a letter, he thought.

Tearing open the seal, he unfolded the letter.

The untidy scrawl was blotched, as if water had been spilled... or tears.

_Dear Wade,_

_ I don't know if you will get this letter in time, I hope you do. I am sure you probably noticed I wasn't exactly cheerful when I came here to Petunia's. That is because I have done something awful. I have broken your trust, and Mother's too. I told Uncle Rhett about Cat. Well, I almost told, and he put two and two together. I know it was terrible of me to tell, and I could not say it to your face. I was afraid, you would never forgive me. But I would rather you learnt the truth from me, than someone else. I am sorry. Please find it in your heart to forgive me._

_ Yours lovingly, _

_ Ella _

Wade sat there with the letter open in his hands. He could have been angry at Ella. He could have pondered on what ifs and maybes. But Wade knew better, or maybe, he had just seen too much. He quickly calculated in his mind what could be Rhett's next move- If Ella told him about Cat in Charleston, that would be two days ago, on Tuesday. Today, this week's first commercial ship to Europe was going to sail. So unless Rhett Butler had gone to Ireland in a cotton steamboat's hull, he would probably be on today's ship to Ireland.

Wade's instinct urged him to check the passenger's list of the ship. But he checked himself- what _could_ he do if Rhett was enlisted in it? He certainly couldn't put him off the ship. No, he would just have to reach Ballyhara before Rhett did. He felt a little comfortable when he realized Rhett probably didn't know where Scarlett was. So that put him behind Wade in the run by a day, at least. Wade went back to munching his toast, which tasted a lot drier and he realized he had lost his appetite. And he knew exactly why.

If given a cause, Rhett Butler was a dangerous man.

* * *

Rhett drew up his coat up to his cheeks and pulled his hat down. On the steps of the City Council office, the guard offered him an elaborate welcome, but Rhett just curtly nodded. He did not have time to waste in exchange of pleasantries.

He did not pause at the assistant's desk, who looked confused by the confidence with which Rhett walked past him straight into the Mayor's office, leaving him stuttering for an appointment.

"Good morning, Edward." Rhett said blandly, sitting down on the chair.

The mayor was at his desk, apparently busy, but when he looked up to see his guest, a wide toothy smile replaced his frown.

"Ah, Rhett! To what do I owe this pleasure?" he drawled.

"I have some business."

"Say no more. You _know_ if you have any problem with taxes or a little pushing an order up the line, you can count on me." Edward Wright said with a wink.

"I want to go to Ireland on the ammunitions' ship today. It requires a Government pass. Arrange one for me."

Edward smiled, looking confused. "I am sure there is a luxury ship leaving Charleston harbor for Europe, Rhett."

"Not till tomorrow. This week's first ship leaves on Thursday."

"Ah, yes. With that wretched mutiny in Ireland, things have been out of schedule here. But I am sure, a day would not make such a big difference..."

"I want to go on the ammunitions' ship." Rhett repeated. "The weekly ammunitions leave in Wednesday nights, don't they?"

Now the mayor looked a little flustered. "Now, now Rhett. Don't get so hasty. You know only the state officials go on the ships. And you could hardly call those steamboats ships! It's a nasty business exporting ammunitions to the Red Coats, as it is. I think-"

Rhett cut in rudely. "I have not come here to take your opinion, Edward."

Edward was still looking uneasy, and Rhett stood up.

"Well then, dear old friend, I must assume you are not going to help me out." he said. "You know, I was just wondering how Johnson could feel about selling me another quarter of his bank. Who knows, he might just end up arranging enough money and credits to run in the next mayoral elections..." he added coolly "...successfully."

Edward Wright visibly swallowed, and his cocky confidence seemed to have vanished into thin air.

"Hey, y-you know..." he stammered, fiddling with his fingers. "I might know someone... who might... it could be arranged."

Rhett picked up his hat with a brandish, and said. "I will be at the quay at eight."

As he placed his hand on the handle of the door, Edward Wright nervously said, "Rhett, about that... that share of Johnson's bank... you were only joking, right?"

Rhett turned to look at him. "Who knows, old friend, who knows..."

Minutes after Rhett had left, the mayor was still sweating copiously, as he drafted a special permission for his old friend's access to the ammunitions' ship.

* * *

Rhett leaned on the railing of the deck, and breathed the smoke deep. The creases on his forehead seemed to have gained their permanent place, and his eyes were deep in their sockets from lack of sleep. He knew he was still very, very far from his goal, and that he did not even have a plan. He did not know where Scarlett lived, and would probably have to go to the Brookes' or John Morland to find it out. He silently cursed himself- if only he had not been so redundant to shuffle away from knowing more about her in the last trip. The time he was saving in making the trip on the stingy boat would go up in smoke if he had to make friendly visits to know Scarlett's whereabouts.

Rhett tried to clear his mind; after all he would be on this boat for two more days. He would have all the time in the world to think up something. He sighed and tried to enjoy the sight of the magnificent sight in front of him. The moon was half hidden by some light clouds, but it did diminish the thick darkness of the ocean a little. Bits of phosphorus were floating in the water, being swept to and fro by the gentle waves. It looked much like a swarm of fireflies he had seen on his blockading days, peeking conspiratorially through the looming bushes and trees on either bank of the rivers. Rhett felt so transported, he almost expected to hear crickets chirping. Those were the days, he smiled.

Rhett was about to take another draw at his cigar, when a young sooty sailor came to him.

He smiled wide. "Sir, you can't smoke on this boat. You gotta understand, we are here on a pile of fireworks. We can't have any kinda fire outside the boiler."

Rhett smiled apologetically and flicked out his cigar into the water. "Yes, of course, I understand."

The sailor wiped his face in a cloth, which made it even sootier, and leaned against the railing.

Though Rhett was not particularly in a mood for conversation, he felt obliged to say something. This man, well he was more of a boy, must have been carrying coal to the boiler for the whole day, and would probably be in there shoving coal into the furnace for the next two days. One could barely feel human after that, and Rhett felt for him. He deserved to be talked to.

Rhett fished into his pocket for his gilded cigar case, and took out the remaining cigars. He smiled and said, "Well, I won't have too much use of these. Care to take it? Throwing away Havana cigars would be a waste."

The man looked eager, but he was being polite. "You can always keep it and smoke it when you reach Ireland."

"Unless I want to use up all the matchsticks I have trying to light a damp cigar, I don't think so."

The man sheepishly accepted the cigars and pocketed them.

Rhett felt better. "So how long have you been on this job?"

"A year or maybe two. You lose count of time when you are in the middle of ocean the whole year."

"I can imagine. You are excited at first, then the sea loses all its charms. It's just this endless pool of salt water. Was it difficult?"

"It was difficult at first, you know, me being a farmer's son and all. I came right out from heart of Ireland."

"Oh, is that so? You don't sound Irish."

"Well, I'm technically not Irish. Anglo descent. Business went wrong a couple of generations back, and lo! We're right there ploughing through the ground like common peasants."

"Hard luck."

"Yeah, talk about it! In fact, peasantry was not going well either, you know. I mean, how do Lords and Barons of centuries suddenly change into farmers? We didn't have any land either, and the Irish would not let an English work with them on their fields. Luck changed a few years ago, though. There is this new plantation, the owner's part Irish, but sensible enough. Got ourselves a job. My brothers work in the fields and my sister's a maid at the house of the plantation."

"And you felt the sea was your calling?"

The man smiled. "I always did. Finally when my brother's got a job, they earned enough to support the family, and I could stay away from home."

"Lucky thing you found that plantation."

"It was more of the plantation finding us. The Lady of the plantation was looking for workers and maids. She came looking in a pub for some young men to pluck weeds in her land."

"The Lady? Came to look for workers in a pub?" Rhett couldn't help but laugh.

His laugh must have sounded mocking, because the young man looked a little hurt. He said, "She is one hell of a lady, shows us by plucking the first brambles herself! She was, you know, in the family way, and she stamps through the mud and picks up the thicket in her hand, and it cuts through her skin. You can't not admire her, being a lady of the plantation and all and still not shrinking from giving the workers an earful if they don't do their job right."

Rhett was still amused. This _was_ one hell of a lady! He asked "Where is this plantation?"

"It's in County Meath. It's called Ballyhara."

Ballyhara? Where was it that he had heard the name? Rhett could not place it, but he felt sure it sounded familiar.

The man was going on. "It's a beautiful plantation, a new one though it is. There is so much hatred between Irish and the British in Ireland; they barely see each other's face. But in Ballyhara, we work together. Though, I doubt if that would be so if it was not for The O'Hara."

Rhett's mind sprung up. "Did you say O'Hara?"

"Yes. The plantation belongs to The O'Hara. The head of the O'Hara family. Ballyhara is Scarlett O'Hara's plantation, built with her own hands."

Rhett now knew he did not have to waste his time searching for Scarlett's address. He looked up, and for the first time in many, many years, offered a silent gratitude to a very powerful entity, with very obscure ways, in the high heavens.


	25. Chapter 25

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: I am very sorry for not updating this sooner. I am just getting nervous about the end and edited and re-edited this chapter who knows how many times. Please read and review, it really makes all this worth it. Thank you!**

**P.S: Typos eliminated(including a very embarrassing one). A ton of thanks to BlaqueCat13 !**

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* * *

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_Rhett, help me Rhett! They are going to kill me and our baby!_

_Scarlett's voice was muffled in the thick mist, and no matter how fast Rhett ran, he couldn't reach her. Her voice seemed distant still, and he felt tears running down his cheek as he tried to call out to her in vain- his voice was choked. Some acrid smell burned up through his nostrils, and he fought nausea as he staggered on. But the smell was stinging his eyes, and he couldn't go on. The mist around him grew darker and darker, until everything was pitch black and he passed out..._

Rhett jumped up. At first he was not entirely sure of his surroundings. His heart was beating painfully fast and the dim light in his room made him panic. Then he realized he was sitting on his bed. He heaved a deep breath. It was just a dream. Though how a dream can be so agonizingly real, he had no idea. He swept the sweat off his forehead, and was about to reach out for a glass of water when he heard loud noises from just outside his cabin. Oh what are these drunken sailors up and about at this hour of the night! He groaned. But suddenly he smelt a pungent odor, which seemed to rise up from the ground.

With dawning horror, he set his foot down and gasped. The wooden floor was red hot. He realized fire had broken out in the lower floor. With unerring agility, he grabbed a heavy coat over his nightshirt and put on his thick-soled shoes. The heat of the floor didn't reach up to the skin through the thick leather. At least now now, he thought grimly. With a quick glance through the window he judged by the waves that they were still a mile or two off the shore.

He touched the doorknob, and breathed in relief. It wasn't too hot- this floor had not yet caught fire. He wrenched his door open. Immediately, thick smoke billowed into his room, choking him. He picked up his scarf and tightly tied it around his nose and mouth, and walked out of the room. Men were running everywhere, shouting at the top of their voices.

"...god help us, they'll not rest till all of us are deep in our graves..."

"...AAARGHHHH, the lower deck is destroyed! I can't swim all the way!"

"God rest yer merry men! Yeh buffoons, how dare ye come bustin' weapons in me land!"

Rhett was shocked to hear such a raw, thick Irish accent. He was sure no one on board spoke that way. He saw a man stumble out of the room next to his, in coughing fits. Rhett caught his arm and led him up the stars towards the captain's cabin. Surprisingly, there was no one up in the relatively open room and the man Rhett had dragged up, collapsed on the floor. As he sat down beside him, Rhett realized it was Jim, the young sailor from Ballyhara. The shouts from below were faint, and Rhett looked at Jim, as his fit subsided and he sat up, wiping his face.

"Want to tell me what's going on?" Rhett asked.

"The Irish." Jim spat.

"What about the Irish?" Rhett asked, but even before he completed the sentence, he realized exactly what was happening. The Irish voice on the lower deck was a mutineer's.

"They attacked. They came in a dinghy and fired at the hull. This boat caught fire, and they jumped on board, stealing the ammunitions, and destroying everything else."

"Where's the captain?"

"They took him prisoner. Reckon they'll just kill off the rest of us and sail away with the loot and a hostage." Jim shook his head in disgust.

Rhett sat in silence for a few minutes. Funny way for things to end. He had finally mustered up the strength to go to Scarlett and now he was going to die in the hands of some brute rebel, and dropped cold in the middle of the sea. He wouldn't even get a funeral, he smirked at himself. So this is what it costs to thank the Lord once in a while, he jested silently.

Rhett almost felt like falling asleep. What did it matter, if he had to die in any case? Why not just doze off and never get up? It sure is nicer than getting sliced at the throat. He closed his eyes. The darkness inside his eyelids was soothing.

Suddenly a flash of light erupted in the darkness and he saw a face. Scarlett's face- teary and begging for help. He jerked his eyes open. He looked around dazed, and saw Jim looking at him curiously.

"You all right there? You looked like you had lightning pass through you."

"Yes, I am all right, and we are getting off the boat."

"In case you were dreaming, we are in the middle of the sea."

"I know we are. And it's not exactly the middle." Rhett jumped up, walking over to the window panes, his thumb in front of his eyes. "The shore is between two to two and a half miles off. Three at most. They came in a dinghy, didn't they?"

"So?"

"You are a sailor. You can easily swim the distance. It's not that cold either, we will have no problem."

"WHAT? You are going to swim to the _shore_?"

"You are too young to be skeptic, boy."

Jim stood up, his hands stretched out in a gesture of disbelief. "I am not talking about swimming! Do you have any idea how many lunatics are waiting on the shore to peel us off?"

"Well, these lunatics are going to kill us anyway, so why not die on land?"

Jim opened his mouth, then closed it again. Apparently, the argument he had thought out did not look so logical. Finally he sighed. "But, what do you really going to do when they point the gun at us when we reach the shore?"

Rhett smiled, and dug his hand into the inner pocket of his coat. The Colt M1861 Navy he held in his hand knocked the breath out of Jim. The brass muzzle had a latent sophistication about it, but the way Rhett held it professed that it had been put to good use often before.

Jim nodded after what seemed like minutes of admiring. Rhett threw off his coat and stuck the revolver in his belt.

"Alright, we can't jump from here. Too much splash will attract their attention, and they can very well chase us in their dinghy. We have to sneak down to the lower deck."

Jim looked unsure and scowled. "You think any of it is left? They set it on fire! Where were you?"

"I am sure it is not destroyed. The boat would not float, if it were." Rhett's voice was urgent, and he had already started walking down the stairs.

Jim followed, his shoulders sulking like a student who had just got detention.

Once in the middle deck, where the resident cabins were, they were almost blinded by the thick smoke which was still circulating in the corridor. But it seemed to have settled down near the floor, and both Rhett and Jim were tall enough to stand upright above the dense layer.

Jim started coughing again, and Rhett handed him his scarf, silently gesturing him to keep quiet. Rhett had to admit to himself, he was feeling quite nervous. The layer of smoke seemed to have the potential of hiding an average-sized Irish who might jump up and shoot them suddenly. He chided himself inwardly. Fifty two was no age for such imagination! He was happy all the same, that after years, he was so attached to life to actually be afraid to die. He was a man on a mission.

His inspiring train of thoughts were interrupted by a pull on the back of his shirt. He spun around, gun at the ready, to see Jim pointing to his left. Rhett was confused- there was nothing but the whitewashed wall, not unlike everywhere else on the boat. He raised his eyebrow quizzically.

Jim pressed his ears to the wall and tapped. Rhett was surprised by the way the tap resounded- the wall seemed hollow! Jim smiled at the look on Rhett's face.

Jim groped around the wall, and about three feet apart, he dug in his fingers. Something clicked, and Rhett looked on in awe as Jim wrested the white plank away. Rhett squinted in the faint light, and his jaw dropped open. A staircase leading down to the lower tiers was visible through the gaping hole in the wall. He looked at Jim, with newfound admiration.

Jim squeezed in through the hole and beckoned Rhett to do the same. Once inside, Jim carefully picked up the plank covering the staircase, and latched it into place.

"A secret staircase? In an ammunition boat!" Rhett's voice was ecstatic.

Jim shrugged. "When I first joined this boat, they were renovating it. This stair leads down to the lowest floor, but has no bypass. It was no good unless you wanted to go from the top to the bottom. So they constructed the current stairwell, connecting the whole boat, and sealed this one."

"So, unless anyone knows about that hole in the wall, we are the only two people who have access to this?"

Jim smiled and his eyes twinkled. "Isn't it convenient?"

Rhett chuckled. "Brilliant, boy! But it's a too dark in here. We might fall right down- How long is this anyhow?"

"Relax." Jim put his hands to the wall and yanked at another loose plank. The piece of wood came off easily, and a round window was revealed. Moonlight came in through the glass pane, waning the concrete darkness. In fact, Rhett could make out the outline of several stairs. He took a step down, and looked back at Jim who was peering out of the window.

"Come on, get a move on, Jim."

Jim looked at him, and then back at the window again. "They are leaving."

"Well, that's good, isn't it?"

"But why are they aiming- what is that? a firecra- they missed it! Oh, they are trying again. What is this, a celebration?"

He looked confused, but Rhett felt his breath was knocked out of his lungs. He launched forward and dragged Jim down, running down the stairs, in the darkness. He stumbled and caught the sideboards jutting out of the wall, but he didn't stop running. Jim tagged along, tripping a few times himself, but he seemed to have been intimidated by Rhett's urgency and kept on the unsteady trot.

"What is the matter?" Jim panted.

"Don't stop, you fool! They are torching the ammunitions! That's why they left. The boat will explode any second now."

Immediately, Rhett felt Jim tense up behind him. But within a few fractions of seconds, he resumed running down the rusty steps, with more vigor and brushed past Rhett.

Rhett slid on a plank, and faltered, and heard a loud thud. They had come to the base of the staircase and Jim, who was a few steps ahead of Rhett, had bumped right into the wall.

"Oh! We are here- ah, my head hurts! - Come on, find it- the door- somewhere around this wall..." Jim was unable to string words together to a sentence, but Rhett got up frantically sweeping his hands on the wall. Jim was shaking violently beside him, and he felt some tremors in his own gut. He bashed himself for being such a coward. Was this the man who risked his life to get frill and lace for ungrateful, gossiping biddies of Atlanta?

It was then, scratching through the rust and mould of the hull, they heard a thundering sound. Rhett felt his heart stop for one long moment, then started beating so furiously, his rib cage might have burst open. Jim let out a sound, which could have been anything from a snivel to a roar. Rhett felt he should say something, so that the boy wouldn't give up hope, but he was unable to voice anything. There were knots in his throat.

Suddenly Jim let out a squeal. "Found IT!" he shrieked, and Rhett felt tears would flow out of his eyes in relief. But another thundering explosion deflated his hope and he dug his fingers into the narrow crevice Jim had cracked open.

What seemed like hours of wrestling, there was a snap, and the upper half of the door broke and came off. Immediately cool air flowed in tingling their sweaty faces. Jim poked his head out of the hole, and groaned in frustration. It was still not big enough for either of them to squeeze through. Rhett grabbed Jim's collar and pulled him away. The he turned to his side and started banging at the door. He couldn't believe how strong the rusty scrap of metal was, when they heard a deafening crash.

With terror in their eyes, they saw a large chunk of the ceiling fall down, burning. Immediately a hot blast of air blew in and slithery flames were licking away at the ceiling. Through the newly formed hole, burning chunks of debris kept falling in and the whole roof creaked, threatening to fall in.

Rhett knew in a matter of seconds, the fire will hit the ammunitions chamber, and everything will be up in smoke. He closed his eyes, willing to summon up every ounce of strength and courage he had. He took a deep breath and released it heavily.

He took a few steps back, his face set in determination. He was not going to stop, not now, not ever. No one can stop him from having Scarlett back. Not some rebels, not a fire, not God if he had intended him to die today...

He broke into a run, going as fast as his half a century old body would permit. When he neared the half broken door, he closed his eyes. He had only one chance...

With a loud bang the door gave away to his momentum, and Rhett opened his eyes to find himself floating in the air. It was blissful, the weightless feeling, the cool night air caressing his face. As he splashed into the water, there was a sound behind him, which he couldn't compare to anything, except to what it was- five ton of firearms and ammunitions blowing up. Rhett didn't try to swim up, but sunk a good few feet, afraid the flying chunks of iron would smash right into his head. He flailed his arms about to swim away from the inferno raging around the boat, spewing balls of fire all around. After almost a minute he surfaced, and gasped, letting the air fill his burning lungs. Jim surfaced only seconds after him, coughing and choking.

Rhett was about to swim towards the younger man, when the boat let out a final eerie hiss, and the remains of the hull plunged into the water with a loud gurgle.

Jim had stopped coughing and they both floated still in the water, trying to assess the events of the previous minute. When the last of the burning flotsam had sunk, Rhett spoke quietly, careful not to let the thumping of his heart be heard in his voice." Are you ready?"

Jim looked his way, and nodded. "We have to swim that way."

"Thankfully the water is not cold, so we won't cramp up easily. We'll have to stay within three feet of each other."

"Don't worry. Feel the warm water beneath your feet? It's the Norwegian Current. It'll guide you right to the east coast of Ireland."

The eastern corner was showing the slightest hint of dawn. Without another word, both of them launched forward, into an easy swim, with very different thoughts coloring their minds.

X X X X X X

Rhett's limbs were aching, and the sight could not have made him any happier. The lush green strip separating the sky from the sea was beckoning seductively. The sun was too hot in the sky and judging by its position, Rhett calculated it must be nearly noon. He looked towards Jim, and saw the man had gained more speed at the sight of land. As it turned out the current had kept them on track, but slowed them down by more than an hour.

Finally when Rhett and Jim trudged up languidly on the rocky beach, both of them could swear they were seeing stars in front of them. Rhett dropped flat on a smooth rock. His body had endured more than it can take in the last few hours, and all he wanted was to curl up and go to sleep right there on the rock. He closed his eyes, and shielded them from the sun.

Rhett woke up with a start. Immediately, his eyes were dazzled and he squinted in the bright sunlight. Rubbing his eyes, he slowly rose from the rock, looking around him. Jim was fast asleep and snoring a few yards away, his back turned towards him.

Rhett walked up the beach, looking around for any sign of humans, but the beach ended within a few meters, and thick forest grew right from the edge. It looked an unlikely place for human habitation, but Rhett needed to find someone. He had to know where he was and how he could get to County Meath from here. He couldn't afford a moment of relaxation. Rhett briskly walked in the other direction, hoping to find a clearing, when he saw a tattered post.

_Stay off the beach from 2pm to 6pm._

_Beware of high tide._

_County Mayo_

Rhett let out a quick breath. County Meath was at least a day's journey, and this place looked like No Man's Land! He felt crying out obscenities in frustration. Why were so many obstacles being placed in his way? Why was he being put to test every minute of every day?

He kicked a rock and it flew off to hit Jim in the back.

"Ow! Who is it- where- what?" He sat up, confused.

"Sorry, I kicked it, and it landed on you. Anyway, you should be up, we have to get going."

Jim groaned, but stood up anyway. "Where are we?"

Rhett pointed to the signpost. Jim stood looking silently at the post.

"So, let's go off into the forest, shall we?" Rhett said and walked towards the trees.

"I cannot believe it. We swim for what, six or seven hours, and now we have to go hiking too?"

"Would have liked if some Irish rebels stood on the beach welcoming us with a shower of bullets?"

Jim snorted.

"Do you know where we have to walk?" Rhett asked.

"I cannot tell if I don't get to a road. We'll have to walk to the railway station, I suppose."

"Do you think the trains are still running?"

"Who knows?"

X X X X X X

They walked for almost an hour, before Rhett had to say, all his energy was drained out and he could not push ahead anymore. Jim's shoulders drooped, and he looked ready to collapse any second. Rhett leaned against a tree, trying to catch a breath, and he could see white balls bouncing in front of his eyes. He slid down the trunk of the tree, until he was squatting on the floor, head tilted back.

He was about to say they should rest for sometime, when he heard a sound. A distant, yet clear rattling sound. Rhett's eyes grew wide in shock, and so did Jim's.

"Trains..." he whispered, shock and elation sending ripples through his body.

The next thing they knew, they were both scurrying on their feet, running wildly through the trees, all the exhaustion well forgotten.

The forest had stopped as abruptly as it had begun. Or maybe it had been cleared away abruptly. There, in the middle of nowhere, lay the parallel beams of steel and the rattling sound was growing louder. Jim got down on his knees and pressed his ear to the track.

"It's just half a mile away. I think we can jump in, it's slow enough." He let out a nervous laugh. Rhett smiled wide and pulled him up.

Surely enough, within minutes, they could see the red engine chugging towards them. They stepped back a little, wary that the wheels might pull them in. Once the engine passed, they started running along the wagons. It was a goods train, ferrying coal across the country. They grabbed an iron ladder on the side of one of the wagons and hoisted themselves up the rungs.

Once they were safely on the heaps of coal, Jim let out a howl of joy. His face shone with tears, "Do you know what train is this? This is the coal wagon that goes from Kilrush to Monaghan. And it goes right over River Boyne in Meath!"

Rhett laughed out loud to himself. The young man's joy was euphoric, and he couldn't deny the rush of happiness inside himself. He lay back down on the coal.

The solid chips dug hard into his back, but he was too tired to feel it. He closed his eyes to a comfortable sleep.


	26. Chapter 26

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: Sorry for updating this after such a shamefully long time! Well, we're nearing the end, aren't we? Just two more chapters. A big thanks to T.J (refugee2010) for his constant prodding. Another big thanks to everyone who are still reading _Seven Years Later_. Reviews are more than welcome.**

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Wade slumped in the one of the many chairs of the hotel lobby. He was tired- he had searched the docks for Mawkins for four hours, and yet no sign! How could he go to County Meath without arranging the boat! He knew he would have to go to Meath by water, there was simply no other way. The renegades were patrolling the railway stations making sure nothing but the essentials and the driver were on the trains. He had had it all planned- he had employed Mawkins, the trusted Irish overseer of Ballintober, to get him a boat and an Irish crew (a British crew was suicidal), then with the boat waiting at the bay, he would get Scarlett and Cat and get out of this burning country.

But now he realized there were so many brutal flaws in his plan- there was chance of getting caught in every step. The biggest of which was his 'crew' getting caught up in the rebellion. Wade was desperately searching for something that would at least take him to Ballyhara, how he would get them out of Ireland, he could always think later. But everyone around him was busy booking tickets on England-bound ships, and eyed him suspiciously when he asked for transportation across the three counties.

He closed his eyes languidly as heavy rain came pelting on the glass window, just a few feet from his chair. It was going to be even more difficult to find Mawkins or any alternative. The sun would set in an hour or so, and Wade just couldn't come around the idea of sitting in the hotel, doing nothing to save Mother and Cat. He had to fight the pessimistic thoughts that seemed to flood him very often these days. He rested his head on the back of the chair and stared out of the window. The thick sheets of rain obscured the view, and the glasses were fogging.

He saw a man flailing his arms about, probably arguing, though he couldn't hear his voice in the din of the lobby. The man looked frustrated and a woman beside him was sobbing and trying to calm the man. Not just a woman, but a lady! Oh how this macabre revolt has brought down courtesy and etiquettes taught over ages, mannerisms cultivated for years.

It was then he realized, he knew the man _and_ the lady! It was none other than Ralph and Leticia Leynard!

Wade ran out of the lobby, down the steps towards them, when he saw Ralph was actually shouting his head off at a burly man, a few years older than them.

Wade brushed past the men and women huddling around the steps of the hotel towards them, and asked, "What is the matter, Ralph?"

Ralph Leynard hadn't noticed him coming, and he looked taken aback. His surprise showed in his voice, when he said, "What are your doing here, Wade? It's a ghastly time to visit this wretched country!"

The burly man before them flexed his muscles- apparently he had a different idea about the shortcomings of his country.

"I came for Mother and Cat," said Wade, stealing a glance the other who looked displeased at this interruption.

"By God, Wade. Haven't they escaped already? County Meath has been taken over by the Irish. Our own plantation was burned to ground!"

"Oh, I am hopeful, Ralph. Mother has Irish descent, after all. But what is this all about?" asked Wade, eyeing the brute of a man.

"This is Caughey, who had agreed to buy our boat, now wants his advance back because he doesn't want the boat!" shouted Ralph, looking ready to launch physically at Caughey.

Wade put a hand on his shoulder to calm him down. He couln't understand. The Leynards were one of the most well-off families in colonial Ireland- why was Ralph so intent on selling his boat?

Ralph must have understood Wade's confusion. He cast another scorching glare at Caughey, before turning to Wade.

He spoke to him in such a low voice, Wade actually had to lean forward to hear him, "I know it's odd, me getting so skittish about a Goddamned boat, but these Irish won't touch British pounds. You give anything other than Irish punts, they'll slit your throat! I don't have anything without the Queen stamped on it, I need the Irish money."

Wade felt relief surge into him in waves. "Give him back his advance. I will buy the boat from you. With punt."

Ralph looked too surprised for words. He opened his mouth several times and closed them again, searching some trick in Wade's face. When he understood Wade wasn't joking, however, he looked very grave. "No, Wade. I certainly cannot take such a paramount favour."

Wade couldn't help but laugh. "But it is you who is granting me the favour! I have been wandering in the docks like a stray dog, looking for the boat I had arranged for, but it never came. I will immediately book tickets for you and Miss Leynard for tonight's ship to Bristol. Please, Ralph, let me do this, you have no idea what a help you are being."

Within an hour, Wade had bought off 'Hamlet and was sitting on the deck as the light boat sped like wind towards Meath along the inky waters of Irish Sea. So many thoughts were crowding his mind, he felt his head would burst. Wade decided to put his worries and speculations aside and went down to the captain's cabin to go over his plan.

The cabin was a small room, which was inevitable, given the size of the boat. But, just like the rest of the boat, there was an aristocrasy about it.

"Good evening, Mr. Hamilton. I hope your stay will be comfortable, though very trying times we may be in," said Gavin Ferguson, the portly captain of 'Hamlet'.

"So do I, captain. When do you think we would reach County Meath?"

"Seeing that it is almost six now, the tides will turn, so we must slow down. It's a long way, I hope you understand, I expect we would reach by ten tonight," said Ferguson, cautiously waiting for Wade's reaction.

Wade had not expected much better. "I don't doubt that you will try your best captain. But, do you know why I am making this trip to Meath?"

Wade was certain he knew, but he had to ask.

"I am afraid I don't have a very clear idea, sir," he said courteously.

"Well, I am going to bring my mother and sister from their plantation house in Meath. I would like you to wait at the port, while I go and find them. After that, you can take us to the British shore, can't you?"

"Of course, sir, as you wish."

Back on the deck, Wade couldn't shake off a feeling of uncertainty, even though everything was going smoothly. So, he had a boat and a faithful crew- so what? There was every possibility of something going wrong, there was so much of task ahead. He wondered how Mother and Cat were, if his Irish cousins, despite being in the thick of war, were protecting them.

He sighed and laid back on an easychair, tilted his head back and closed his eyes. Soon everything was peacefully black and calm. He welcomed sleep.

Wade had no idea how long he had slept, when he was politely shaken off slumber by a cabin boy.

"Sir, we are almost there," said the spotty teenager.

Wade rubbed his eyes to adjust his sight- a small lantern was hanging from a post in one corner of the deck, and Wade could not make out anything in it's dim light. After about a minute he began to see the silhouette of the shoreline, almost a mile from their boat. Tiny spots of light dotted the darker horizon and Wade wondered if they were friendly or hostile men beckoning the lonely seyfarers. He just couldn't be sure, and he couldn't let the boat run the risk. He climbed down the steps to the captain's cabin.

"Captain Ferguson, can I have a word with you?"

"Of course, sir," said the man, looking confused.

"I don't want you to drive the boat to the shore."

The captain looked quite startled. "You don't want to go to Meath?"

Wade walked over to the window. "Do you see those lights? Those are Irish, ready to char down your boat and crew to coal, if we get anywhere near the shore. I know a small jetty around Craigsland Creek. Please steer the ship that way. It is abandoned and located near the Diabhail Forests- no Irish would enter the forests in fear of evil spirits. We will be safely moored there. I will be back with them before dawn, I promise."

The plan sunk into the captain slowly and he nodded. "I will steer towards Craigsland Creek, sir."

Wade jumped off the boat on to the jetty, which creaked threateningly. He waved his torch at the boat, signalling that he was safely on land. He set off walking into the forests, and couldn't help but be a little annoyed that his nerves were a little jangled. The Irish were superstitious, but it would not do for a shrewd American businessman to be afraid of fairies and djinns. He tightened his grip around the Springfield slung to his back.

Under normal circumstances, the screams would have terrified Wade. But he was so busy trying to decide if any of those belonged to Cat or Mother, or any of his Irish cousins, that he could only push past the hordes of crying women who ran out of their burning houses, clutching their babies to their bosom. Ballyhara was on fire, as Ralph Reynard had suspected and Wade had feared, and the Irish rebels were racing their horses through the helpless crowds trying to disband them, all the while yelling about glory of Ireland. Wade threw off his coat and rolled up his sleeve upto his elbow, trying hard to camouflage as an ordinary Irish peasant- he certainly looked the part what with the mud spattered in his clothes from the long walk through Diabhal.

It generally took about ten minutes to get to the main house of Ballyhara from the entrance of the estate, but Wade covered the distance in less than four minutes, and ehat he saw was not a happy sight. The entire house was itself a giant inferno, with the roof almost gone. The windows were spouting flames every once in a while, and the small balcony, where Cat used to ride her play pony was hanging precariously. Well, no time for romancing the past, thought Wade, he needed to find them.

Then he noticed. The rebels had flocked in front of the house, throwing burning woods at it, but they had not touched the stable. The stable was not attached to the main house, so evidently, it was not on fire. The rebels, however, were chanting in a trance, and an intact stable was hardly worth their worries.

Wade broke into a run for the stables, trying to stay in the shadows of the trees; the last thing he'd want was to draw the rebels' attention to the stalls. Once hidden by the remains of the house, Wade started shouting for Cat and Mother. The stalls were empty; maybe the rebels had been there and taken all the horses.

"Cat! Mother! Are you there?" shouted Wade at the top of his voice. He felt his limbs getting heavier- they weren't there, everything gone to waste!

"Wade!"

The squeal brought Wade, who had started shaking, back to his body.

"Cat!" choked Wade as Cat jumped into his arms, "Oh, darling Cat! Are you all right? Where is Mother?"

"Wade, oh, I knew you'd come," Scarlett answered his queries. She looked distraught- her dress was filthy, and torn at places, her hair was out of place- there had been struggle.

"What happened to you?" started Wade.

"Oh Wade, there is no time to explain now," cried Scarlett in urgency. "Let us get out of here. You can take Cat with you on your horse, and I will take get Half Moon. All the other horses have been stolen."

Wade felt the excitement and happiness he had felt a minute ago ebb away. "Mother, you take Cat by Half Moon. Take the way round the back, across the Loghalia patch, it'll lead to Craigsland Creek. My boat's waiting there."

"Why, Cat and I will weight much more, it will slow down Half Moon by ages! You have to take her on your horse, Wade!"

Wade waited a beat before calmly replying, "I did not bring a horse, Mother."

A little 'oh' escaped from Scarlett's lip, and they fell into a silence, where mother and son stared at each other, both judging their priorities as thought their life depended on it. And it did.

After a few moments, Scarlett looked resolutely, right into Wade's eyes. "Then you will take Cat and go. Don't you even dare argue with me, Wade Hamilton."

Her strength shook Wade, and made him even weaker. "I will stay here, Mother. Sooner or later, the troops will come and drive these scoundrels out."

"No, Wade. I will not have that. You are going, and that is the end of this discussion," said Scarlett strongly. When he did not move an inch, she broke into a teary smile.

"Wade, please understand. You are my son, and though I have not exactly been a citable example of motherhood, it is still my duty to think of my children first. Please let me be your mother. You are all Ella has got, and Cat too. Promise me you will take care of them," she said, gripping Wade's hands tightly.

Tears were trickling down Wade's cheek, as he realized he was going to keep her request and abandon her in this hell.

"Go, Wade," whispered Scarlett, slightly pushing him towards Half Moon, who kicked at the door of his stall.

Wade felt like it was somebody else controlling him, as if he was a stranger to his own hands, as they untied Half Moon, mounted Cat in front of him, and waved Scarlett goodbye before marching off into the dark night.

Wade rode in silence through the rolling plains of Loghalia. He could see huts bordering on the east, all of them burning desolately like the last embers of the hearth in the morning. The countryside was burning, but Wade felt nothing; no sympathy, no fear, nothing. He could not know what Cat felt either, she was silent too.

Suddenly, a gunshot brought Wade back to his senses. Cat sqealed and clamped her hands on her ears. With horror rising like bile in his throat, he realized a group of four or five rebels had started chasing them.

"Shh, Cat, don't you worry, we are getting out of here," he whispered urgently, "Here, can you hold the reins for a while?"

"What are you going to do, Wade?" asked Cat, scared.

"Nothing, just a little game. Here, hold this," said Wade as he shoved the reins into Cat's hands. Another gunshot sounded, and Cat whimpered, but held on to the reins. Wade unlatched the Springfield from the strap and tried to twist his body back as far as possible, to get a good shot. But it was too dark to make out their outlines and Wade knew better than to fire randomly. He aimed his gun at the swinging torches that the rebels were carrying. He said a quick prayed, and pulled the trigger.

Cat shuddered wordlessly in front of him, and one of the torches fell down on the ground. Wade heard a loud neigh as the other torches slowed down. Wade had hit a man.

With neither remorse, nor guilt, Wade took three more shots and shot down two other rebels. Now only one torch swung, still at their heels. Wade felt a tingling on the back of his neck, as he aimed his gun again and shot. As the last of the torches fell to the ground and extinguished, the Wade had a fleeting sensation of freedom.

He swung his rifle back, and gently took the reins from Cat's hand. There was a light splashing sound as Half Moon sped into the Spiorad Marsh- they were nearing Craigsland Creek.

"Hey, Cat! You're a brave one, aren't you?" he said, trying to sound cheerful, as he enveloped Cat's cold, shaking hands in his palm.

Cat nodded, but didn't make a sound. Wade carried on, trying to divert her six-year-old mind. "Well, we are going to have a nice big story to tell Ella. Yes, I will tell her exactly how our brave Cat drove Half Moon through the Loghalia patch to the Marsh."

"Where are we going, Wade?" asked Cat, after a while.

"To England, and then America, Cat. Do you remember how you wanted to go to America?" he asked, cajoling Cat to speak.

Cat did not answer and Wade concentrated in trying to keep to the obscure path, half immersed in the brine water that flow into the marsh during high tide.

With relief, Wade smelled salt in the air and through a small crack amongst the stilted trees, saw the lights of Hamlet glowing. He shouted for the attention of the crew, when suddenly something like a war cry broke out behind them.

Half Moon almost stumbled in surprise and Wade turned back to see another group of rebels riding towards them. With a sinking feeling, he urged Half Moon to go faster and dug his heels into his sides.

"Start the engine!" he shouted so loudly that he felt his lungs might burst. "Captain, start the engine, set off, I will jump!"

Wade did not know if his voice had carried over to the boat, and for a few looming seconds he thought it had not. But before his fear could grow and cripple him, Hamlet's engines roared into life, and he heard the crew shouting to clear the deck, so that he could jump. With one last glance at the rebels, who were closing in, Wade guided Half Moon to the jetty at breakneck speed. Cat was trembling in front of him, and she clutched Half Moon's mane- Wade realized, with surprise and admiration, she was more excited than scared. The gypsy, his sister was!

"Come on, Half Moon," he urged, with growing suspicion at his ability, as Hamlet drifted away from the jetty.

When Half Moon propelled himself off the jetty with a last, forceful step, Wade thought time had stopped. The war cries behind him were silenced, or maybe he was bereft of his senses. Finally, after a few long moments, with a sudden jolt, Half Moon landed on the deck, trotting a few steps before coming to stop.

Amidst whoops of admiration from the young crew, Wade stepped off the panting horse. He patted between his flaring nostrils. "Good job, Half Moon, good job," he whispered, as a young boy brought him a pail of water.

"Are we off to England, then, sir?" asked Captain Ferguson, down to business as swiftly as possible.

"Yes, captain," said Wade wearily, as he helped Cat off the horse.

After hesitating for a moment, Captain Ferguson asked, "Pardon my interference, sir, but I thought your Mother was going to accompany you."

A tight knot in Wade's throat made it impossible to answer. He simply stared at the reducing pitch black outline of the Irish coastline in reply.


	27. Chapter 27

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: Late, yet again. _*hangs head low in shame*_ I got so tired of the half-written chapter that was sitting in my computer for more than a month that I sat down last night and promised I won't get up until it was finished. So, the ending might seem hurried, and I'd like to hear if you think it's the 'right' reunion. Now, I know a lot of heat is expected, as Alexandra Ripley had put it. But, I'd also like to remind you that Rhett and Scarlett are both older here, more mature. And there are still uncertainties like where Cat and Wade are, and they haven't yet decided what the next phase of their life is, so I think it was more credible if they went off to a slow start. But I'm open to suggestions. Thanks for reading, and sticking through. Reviews are welcome.**

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Scarlett sat in a corner of the stable, on an upturned bucket, her knees drawn close to her body. She clutched her hands close around herself, to prevent herself from shaking. She tried hard to hold back the tears. Cat will be safe, Wade would take her to Atlanta, and together he and Ella would take care of her. Cat would never be in want of anything- luxury, love, home, anything! Not even her mother...

Scarlett stared at the pile of rocks a few feet from her, as if it were the most fascinating thing in the whole wide world.

The shadows were flickering inside the stable - the burning house and the silhouettes of the rebels were making a maddening show on the unclean floor of the stalls and Scarlett sat staring at them, chasing each shadow with her eyes.

All of a sudden, the play stopped, as a huge dark shadow blocked out them all. Scarlett shrank back, suspecting a rebel had come for loot.

"Scarlett! Are you in there?"

Scarlett's heart stopped for a moment then started beating erratically and she felt her cheek sting with hot blood. It was Rhett! Rhett had come for her! She scrambled to her feet with tears streaking down her face, and frantically ran towards the door.

"Rhett! Rhett!" she shrieked, barely recognizing her own voice; it was filled with a sense of panic and assurance at the same time.

Rhett stood at the doorway, with a horse sniffing behind him. Scarlett felt a strange calm creep though her rattling nerves. Rhett Butler standing a few feet from her, covered in- what was it, soot?- looking like he was just out for a stroll and was beckoning Scarlett to do the same.

Scarlett was a pragmatic woman, and at times of pressing concerns, such as this, her senses always willed her to prompt action. But tonight, somehow, that practicality seemed to have deserted her, as she stood staring into his eyes. The blood in her veins stilled and she felt so utterly peaceful. She did not know if Rhett standing there was a coincidence, or if he was her fate- she only knew that fine line between the two had been had been dissolved.

Scarlett broke into a run. Within seconds, she had covered the distance between them, and was clutching Rhett's coat and sobbing into his chest.

But Rhett pulled her away from his brief embrace. "No, Scarlett. We don't have time. They'll come, for sure. Do you know anywhere we can go?"

Rhett's haste squeezed the emotions out of her. "Why, we could.. we could ride through Loghalia Patch-"

"No, we cannot make it before the rebels outrun us. Isn't there any place we can hide, till the battalion come down?"

Suddenly Scarlett remembered. Of course, how could she have forgotten it! Cat's tower, the Tower of Lord Ballyhara! Surely the rebels won't follow them there, it was supposedly haunted by Lord Ballyhara, and there was Grainne's house too. Any Irish who treasured his life would not set foot in the vicinity of the 'witch'. The thought that safety lay just a few metres away, on top of the haunted tower, spurred Scarlett into action.

"Yes, there is, come on," she said, tugging at Rhett's sleeves.

But Rhett stood there, stolidly.

Scarlett was confused. "What is it? Rhett, we have to hurry."

But Rhett suddenly seemed very distant; he simply stared right into her eyes. It was not his usual scrutinizing look, but somehow it made Scarlett shiver.

"Where is our child?"

Scarlett's eyes grew wide. "What.. how..?" She realized she was even not capable of framing her question.

"Ella told me," he said gravely.

When Scarlett did not respond, he grabbed her shoulder and shook her.

"What happened, Scarlett?" he said, and Scarlett couldn't quite place what shook his voice slightly - anger or panic.

"Our daughter, Cat. She is safe. Wade took her, he has a boat to take them to England," said Scarlett, swallowed hard to keep herself from crying. No, they are safe, she reminded herself.

Rhett, on the other hand, seemed to be fighting a reckless storm inside him. His face was contorted, and Scarlett wondered if he was trying to hold back tears. She gently touched his cheek, and he shuddered.

Suddenly, a horrible cry screeched through the air.

"Noooo!"

A woman's cry, followed by a sickening thump. Scarlett went very white, clutching Rhett's coat like her life depended on it.

"Scarlett. Where were you taking us, show the way," said Rhett, apparently returning to his old brisk self. He snatched the reins of his horse.

"Come on, Sultan, come on boy," he coaxed, but the frightened horse hesitated. Rhett wrenched the reins, and Scarlett watched his muscles bulk under his worn coat as he drove the animal by sheer force.

She must have become distracted, because Rhett snapped, "Scarlett! Stop dreaming and lead the way. I'd have to walk the horse out of here."

Scarlett bristled - it was annoying and a little funny how Rhett could still scold her like a five-year-old. She started walking down the narrow, gravelly boreen that led to the tower.

Suddenly, there was a loud bang and a loud neigh, and even before Scarlett could turn back, a thudding sound sent a chill though her bones. Sultan, Rhett's horse had fallen to the ground, writhing - and blood gushing out of its neck.

Scarlett stood frozen. The fact that the rebels were onto them, that they would come charging any moment and spare them no more mercy than they did to this wordless creature imposed less fear that the sight of the horse, which slowly went still, eyes still wide. Of course she had not expected this to be a bloodless battle - the fire, the screams were testimonies of the gore. But seeing Sultan, seeing him shot right in front of her seemed to drip a coldness in her vein, which, instead of steadying her, actually made her feel weak, as yet again, she valiantly fought another urge to break down. She felt Rhett's fingers close around her wrist in reassurance. But reassurance from what? Rhett could not assure her everything was going to be all right. Not when there were little children running around screaming for their mothers, who were either burning inside a house, or were shot by the rebels. Not when Wade and Cat were out there trying to outrun the rebels across a marsh they knew nooks and crannies of. Not when she was unsure if she'd see another day.

"Scarlett, I'm here," whispered Rhett. She hadn't realized he had walked so close to her, where his breath tingled her ear. She staunchly fixed her stare at the ground.

Rhett's grip tightened around her wrist. When he spoke again, his voice was steel. "Scarlett O'Hara, I have made out of far worse situations, and as sure as the earth spinning around the sun, we are not going to die in Ireland, of all places! Do you hear me?"

When Scarlett didn't respond, Rhett caught her shoulders and shook her. "Do you hear me?" he shouted.

"Ye- yes," mumbled Scarlett.

"Good. Now march," he said, pulling Scarlett away from the dead horse.

It took a while for Scarlett to adjust to Rhett's pace, and shake out the damp feelings. She almost tripped on the hem of her skirt, and hitched it well above her calf. They stumbled down the uneven, narrow path to the tower, all the time, looking over their shoulders to see if any rebel was following.

They were about halfway to their destination, when a spur of hooves roared through the sir.

"There they are!"

The shout rang through their ears as if a canon had been shot. Scarlett didn't need to turn back to realize how close their pursuers were.

"Oh, no," she whispered, but Rhett was already dragging her up the boreen, towards the tower. The mist was thickening and the rebels sounded closer by the second.

"There!" shouted Scarlett, as she saw the blessed rope ladder hanging against the stony, ancient wall of the tower.

"Climb on, Scarlett, I'm right behind you," urged Rhett.

Scarlett's sweaty palms slipped off the ropes, so she gripped them tight and hoisted herself up. She could feel the skin rubbing raw against the rough material, and all she could think of was how many more steps to the top. She repeatedly looked down to see if Rhett was still there, as if she expected him to vanish into the mist, as if he could have been just a dream, a figment of her imagination.

By the time the rebels had reached the base of the tower, she was just a few steps from the top. Without warning, they started firing at them. Scarlett's heart thumped against her ribs, as a shot ricocheted off the crumbling stones, just a few inches from her hand. The last two steps seemed to take an eternity, and by the time she clambered onto the floor at the top of the tower, she was too tired to even keep her eyes open. But her tireness was overridden by anxiety, and she decided the two seconds between her reaching the top and that of Rhett were the most dreaded two seconds of her entire life.

She tugged and clutched at Rhett's hand as he climbed up and collapsed on the floor, panting.

"Quick - throw down - the ladder," he said, between short breaths. Scarlett untied the ropes clumsily, and let them slide off the edge.

"Do you think they'll climb back up?" asked Rhett, sitting up.

"No, I - I don't think so. They think this tower is haunted," said Scarlett. But nonetheless, she curled up by Rhett's side, straining her ears trying to listen to the rebels' conversation.

"Hey, shouldn't we get up and finish them off?" one of them was saying, and Scarlett stiffened.

"I won't go up. That tower is haunted by that old Lord. One time, me ol' Suey Bergg climbed up and saw his ghost, still hanging. He's never been the same again."

"So what do we do?"

"Well, they threw down the ladder. Let the bloody bastards starve up there."

With that, and a general round of agreement, the rebels started riding off back towards the burning horizon.

Long after the sound of hooves had died away, Scarlett and Rhett sat in silence.

"We're not really going to starve here, are?' said Rhett softly.

Scarlett smiled, raising her head to meet Rhett's eyes. "No," she said. "Cat always has a spare ladder, just in case."

Rhett's eyes were calm, a faint smile playing on his face. "Clever Cat," he said.

"Oh, she is. She is a very clever girl," she said, touching his face.

"Tell me more about her."

"Well, Cat is a very happy child. She has a spirit of her own. She is very much like you in some ways, she is not scared of anything! You'd love her the moment your meet her, Rhett."

"I know I would. I already love her, Scarlett. I can't wait to hear her call me 'Daddy'."

Scarlett bit her lip. "Yes, Rhett. There's something I'd like to tell you about that. Cat doesn't know... about you. That you're her Daddy."

Rhett's smile vanished as the fact registered in his mind. "What?"

"I did not tell her about you. She asked me once or twice, but I told her that her father was away, and that he wouldn't come back. I wanted her to know that I was there, that I was enough."

Rhett held her wrists in his hands, but his eyes intimidated her more than his iron grip. They were those black, burning chips of coal, which scared her so much.

"I know I should say I was wrong, Rhett. But it didn't feel wrong to me then, and it doesn't feel wrong even now. You stole away my happiness, our happiness. Why would I have given you my share?" she said softly.

Years ago, Rhett used to scare her. But building back her life, being responsible for Cat, protecting her with her own life - that had changed her perspective in more ways than one. Yes, Rhett was powerful. But no longer did he seem flawless to her. He _had_ hurt her, and he couldn't deny it. She tried to read his face, tried to interpret his feelings, but his face was wiped clean of any. Scarlett wondered if it was regret or acceptance.

Then his expression changed. His eyes started showing pain, and Scarlett realized he could not stand to see him so weak, so vulnerable. He was Rhett Butler, for crying out loud! She averted her eyes.

Rhett slowly let go of her hands. "You have changed, Scarlett."

"I had to. How else would I have built up Ballyhara? I don't think the old Scarlett could have protected Cat the way I did."

Rhett pulled her chin up with his fingers. "I am sorry, Scarlett," he said huskily.

And it hit Scarlett. There were times when she had imagined what would happen if Rhett found out about it all. She had always imagined him threaten to skin her, to sue her and what not. But never had she imagined, the old stubborn Rhett Butler would apologize. It seemed so unlike Rhett, yet it also felt like she was sitting in front of a man she could spend a life with. A Rhett who would not always think he is the law unto himself, who would accept he could make mistakes.

"What happened to us, Rhett?"

Rhett looked at her for a long moment, as if thinking up an answer. Then he stretched out his arms. Scarlett gladly moulded into them, and rested her head on his chest.

"We are much too alike, Scarlett. That's what killed us," said Rhett, into her hair. "We live on our pride, and our pride robbed us of everything we held dear."

Scarlett let the memories and tears she had cornered in her heart, wash over her. Rhett gently stroked her hair.

Scarlett murmured, "I wonder where Wade and Cat are."

"Well, if I know Wade as well as I think I do, they're on their way to England."

Scarlett raised her head to see a curious smile on Rhett's face. "You know, Scarlett, I think he is more like you than you might imagine. He'd go to the ends of the earth trying to protect his family, just like you would.'

Scarlett felt guilt set in. "Not like me, Rhett, not at all like me. I abandoned him - and Ella. He is more like... Melly," said Scarlett, and yet another sob came out.

"Well, then we have to make sure we take care of them, don't we Scarlett?"

Rhett caught her chin again and made her face him. He slowly lowered his head, until his nose was about an inch from hers.

"We too have a lot to make up for," he whispered, his eyes on her lips.

A blush slowly crept up Scarlett's cheek, and yet again, she realized with wonder, Rhett Butler could still arouse all those feelings of sweet anxiousness, those slight tremors and warm insecurities in her. That too, lying cold stones atop of an ancient tower, just a few meters from a burning town.

She smiled in a pleasure she felt she had long forgotten, as he dipped his head to claim her lips in unerring passion. The sun dawned behind the two lovers, oblivious to anything but the taste of wordless promises tangled between their bodies.


	28. Epilogue

_Dear Róisín,_

_ How are you? I know I haven't written for a while, but so much has been going around, I am sure, you will hardly hold it against me. How is Aintín Kathleen? I hope you don't annoy her as you used to. Whenever I think of her and you, I remember the green fields of Ballyhara, the horses in the stable. I used to feel like a gypsy when I rode little Cian - he was a mighty horse. Were they able to resinstate the stable? Or has it been burnt beyond repair? Oh, I almost forgot, Mother asked Uncail to send her a lump of earth from Ireland through Daniel. It is needed for the matrimony that is going to be held in a few days._

_ With that I come to the next part of my letter. Wade is getting married! To Leticia Reynard! Yes, remember that sweet, golden haired lady whose tinkling earbobs you couldn't take your eyes off? She is very gentle, and I couldn't be more happy for Wade. Well, he hasn't changed one tiny bit, and he hardly ever expresses his happiness. But sometimes when I and Ella, tease him for hours on end about Leticia, how eventful his visits to Ireland must have been, and then to England, where Leticia and her family moved after the rebellion, he gives in and we can see the elation in his eyes even when he reprimands us for being so indiscreet. I have not known I had a brother and a sister for the five earliest years of my life. But when I met Wade, I had so naturally felt close to him, the five years had seemed extremely unimportant. I can't forget that fateful night, when Ballyhara was set ablaze by the Fenians, I'm sure no Irish can, for that was the day her own sons set fire in her heart. Before that, I had never felt so afraid, not even when the boys threw rocks at me or when I learned that their mothers bathed them after they went home from my birthday parties. I was afraid that night, I was very afraid that night and being afraid was a very new sensation to me. I could feel from Momma's grasp, she was as helpless as me. When she sent me with Wade, I still remember his firm hands on the reins and I had almost shrank back into his body in fear. But I remember more distinctly than any of this, when a fire shot through the woods, I was shivering and crying silently - Wade put his arms around me, and silently said, "Don't be afraid, darling. Wade is with you, everything will be alright." I was five, and you know how dificult a task it is to instill faith in a child's worried mind. But his words were so powerful I knew it couldn't be anything but the truth; I knew he could shoot any Irish rebel if one sprang up in front of us. The next day I met Daddy and I have wondered since, how could I have been so happy with my life before Wade, Ella and Daddy were there?_

_ It has been ten years since then. I am a lady now. Life has been different since I came to Greenville. Momma didn't want to go to Atlanta, Daddy felt Charleston was a city of snobs. But Greenville is so perfect, how could anyone have considered any other options? Ella went to a beautiful country estate just off Charleston after her marriage to Stephen Ratcliffe and Wade stayed back in Atlanta because of his business. But it'll be unfair to say he stays in Atlanta because he is hardly ever home from travelling and when he was, he spends most of his evenings here with us. I miss him everytime he goes on a long business trip. Now that he is getting married I will miss him even more and Momma rebuked me, when I was seriously considering Leticia's invitation to visit them as often as I please. Wade, of course, has made it clear to Momma that I should be visiting them just as often, or he would come himself leaving his home. Though I had to reproach Wade for this, I can confess to you, I had felt so happy I could burst at the seams! It is heavenly of Leticia to move to America with Wade after their marriage or I would have been the bitterest sister at their wedding._

_ Oh, Daddy just peeped in through the door and asked what I am doing so dilligently, with 'tongue pursed between my teeth'. I am sure I don't do that anymore! But I don't bristle at his teasing now, but that's more than I can say for Momma. Daddy will never get tired of teasing her and Momma will never back down from an opportunity to shout at him for that. No, don't think their marriage is out of sorts, even for a moment! Everytime I see Momma scolding him, love shines in her eyes and everyone knows Daddy is forgiven even before she voices her protests. And Daddy doesn't even try to hide his pleasure and love in the fights, barely remembering us in the room, before he is playfully nudged by Momma to keep off his advances. I have come to know whatever had happened during the years after their divorce, bit by bit from Ella and others. It beguiles me beyond words how two people, who love each other with such fervour, can deny it so long. I remember I used to ask Momma about Daddy when we lived in Ballyhara. At that time, it was an issue as important as a new toy or a pony, because to me, 'father' was just another drunk member of the family, as good as the old uncles, grandfathers and no more. Momma used to brush aside the subject and the temptation of a pound of chocolate was more pleasing than pursuing the subject, so I was never really interested. But when Momma said, "Cat, honey, this is your Daddy." all those premonitions just vanished, and I saw a man whom I wanted to call Daddy, despite the fithy clothes he wore. Someone once told me, you never know you're missing something if you don't know it exists. I had never missed the brother and sister I did not know existed, I had never missed the father who was never coming back._

_ So, I have gone on long enough. I will see you in a few months, Momma will start sending invitation next week. Please write back soon, and tell me all about your new school in Dún Laoghaire. I hope to hear from you soon._

_ Lovingly yours,_

_ Cat_

**~THE END~**

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_**AUTHOR'S NOTE: This is last chapter of this fic, and I am feeling accomplished that I have ended it just the way I wanted it, and also a little sad because it_ is_ the last chapter. I had this idea of making the epilogue a letter way back when I started writing this story. I know I haven't made any major revelations about Scarlett and Rhett's life, but seriously, if we have to stick to reality, what can we expect of a man near sixty and a woman who has seen so much hardship, other than a peaceful, but loving life? But I will be glad to read what you think. What did you think of Wade, Ella and Cat's life?**

**Anyway, I hope you have enjoyed reading the story, and your reviews, criticisms and response have always been a constant source of inspiration. Thank you.**


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